Randomize: 200th annual Hunger Games
by Fire and Starlight
Summary: 35 tributes entered the Hunger Games (23 girls and 12 males) with one goal in mind: I want to survive. It isn't all that easy-with lies, betraying, romance and a manipulative game-maker who wants the President spot more than anything. Two Victors will win over the rest, with a story to tell. Who would be the Victor? A collaborated story with SilverflowerXRavenpaw. SYOT Closed!
1. Chapter 1

**Fire, enough... Anyways, ignore that. I hate this really I do. I made up a wonderful Quarter Quell idea but if I don't write this it might be lost forever**..

* * *

The young president twisted Ruina's hair into a braided crown. It was finally the time once again that the president of Panem will pick a Quarter Quell for this year's Hunger Games.

"Mom, when will I be president?" Ruina asked.

"When you're eighteen and your married," the president replied.

"But that won't happen if Violetta gets married first," Ruina pouted. Violetta was Ruina's sister that was older than her by a year and ten months. Violetta never wanted to be president until up till five weeks ago, when she applied to be a game maker for the game's. Violetta had came to the mansion and she told us that she wanted to be president.

"I got to go get dressed," the president said to her daughter.

She ordered the avox that was standing in the corner blank-faced to finish Ruina for the Quarter Quell revealed. The avox nodded and stepped forward. The president smirked and stepped out of the room.

"Roxanne Nellcamon," a voice clucked from behind her.

Roxanne turned around rather gracefully and saw Za'av Weston behind her. Za'av Weston was the assistant to the president and the lover to President Roxanne Nellcamon. Although President Roxanne Nellcamon was married, she took many lovers to her mattress and her husband was ignorant about her taking lovers to bed. Za'av was currently the lover of the president, as long as he continued to be good in bed he would have more money to buy more things for his family.

"Weston," Roxanne greeted.

"Is that how you greet your lover," Za'av flirted.

Roxanne shushed him. "Do you have the dress?"

Za'av nodded and handed her the midnight, sparkly dress that was covered in plastic wrapping. She pushed him off the stairs and walked to her fitting room.

The dress maker helped put on the dress and tightened it to the way she liked it. The dress maker chose out a few jewelry and helped put it on Roxanne to make her be perfect shining like a star in the midnight sky.

The dress maker huddled back into a corner as she was finished with Roxanne's dress for the revealing of the Quarter Quell. Roxanne walked out and went to the stage with her husband, Ruina, and Astoria her youngest daughter.

They sat down until it was time for President Roxanne Nellcamon to reveal this year's Quarter Quell.

The box carrier stepped towards her nervously as he lifted the red box to the President. She opened the box and put her hand in there digging her hand into the box until she grabbed a randomize card and lifted it up.

She opened it and began to read.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it...

"On the fiftieth anniversary as a reminder that two rebels died for each capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes...

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female victors was reaped from their existing pool of victors...

"On the one-hundredth, as a reminder to the rebels that died for each capitol citizens, every district was required to send three times as many tributes...

"On the 125th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that when they broke the bond with the Capitol and made a bad mistake, two pairs of twins from each district will be reaped, no volunteering allowed, and if one twin dies, their bond breaks and the other twin will die, while the winning twins will both be crown victor."

"On the 150th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that females had died during the dark days. Males were reaped from each district.

"On the 175th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even children had died. Districts reaped children from ages 5-11.

"And now we celebrate our 200th anniversary as a reminder to the rebels, that deaths were randomized. The districts will continue to reaped until they choose a male tribute."

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 **Well fun. For example, if District 10 reaped 9 girls until they had chosen a boy then those 9 girls will also be tributes.**

 **Tribute form:**

 **Name:**

 **Age:**

 **District:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Face claim (not an option):**

 **Personality (Pet peeves, fears, usual personality, etc):**

 **Background story:**

 **Family (Name, age, personality):**

 **Friends (Name, age, personality):**

 **Reaped/Volunteered:**

 **Reaction if reaped:**

 **Reason if volunteered:**

 **Outfits (Reaping, chariot, interview):**

 **Angle for Interview:**

 **Training (Pervious, Capitol, Private Session):**

 **Score: (This might change)**

 **Romance?:**

 **Token: (Optional)**

 **Strengths: (go by district related also)**

 **Weaknesses:**

 **Weapon(s) of choice:**

 **Predicted placement:**

 **Al** **lies: list personality if you want to ally.**

 **Other:**

* * *

 **Rules:**

 **No Gary-stu's or mary-sues**

 **Names must be creative and district related.**

I will accept PMS and reviews.

Reservations will last one week and here's a surprise. I want someone to write chapters with me but they must have an account.


	2. Prologue 1

**One submission so far and no offers to be my writing partner yet, I'm not melancholy about that since it has been up for three hours and it does take time to get people to submit. Anyways, here's Prologue one**

* * *

Violetta smirked as she entered the President's mansion. She was very delighted to hear about this year's Quarter Quell and when she was delighted she was pissed at her mother. Violetta's mother was the ignorant, old fool she was when she announced the Quarter Quell in front of whole Panem. Violetta was a few steps away from obtaining her goal. She already met a guy, manipulated him into believing that she loved the guy when in fact, she despised him. He was annoying, clinging but very wealthy.

In three months, she was planning to marry the guy, lock him up in a room and pregnant her with two to three kids then kill him. Violetta was not a mother nor was she going to act like one. She would probably give them to her friends or what she called friends. Violetta had a small circle, Serenapity, Tequila and Rogue. All three were manipulated into believing that she was their friend that she could rely on.

"Violetta, what are you doing here?" Someone squeaked.

Violetta turned around to see her mother's stupid lover and assistant standing at the bottom of the staircase. He was an old fool thinking that no one knew what was happening behind those close doors as her father laid on the couch, drinking whiskey and drowning away all the regrets he made. Violetta was the only one that knew about the president's love affair and saw it one day while hiding in the closet but that was another story for another day.

"I am allowed to be here even if it means unannounced. I just wanted to surprise my mother," Violetta said, casually. Violetta smiled at the response and passed by him.

She entered through the garden and saw Roxanne picking a bouquet of red and white roses that was constantly grew in the garden. Roxanne loved the white roses and often wore them in her pockets or was the smell of her perfume bottle. The white roses had been in the family for generations starting with Cornelius Snow, then his granddaughter Celesta Snow then to his son, daughter, etc.

"Hello mother," Violetta breathed. "It's been a long time has in it?"

Roxanne stiffened up at the sound of her voice. No it was impossible, Violetta never stepped foot in the mansion ever. Even when Roxanne given birth to her, she was never found at home. "Five weeks almost six tomorrow," she replied.

"Yeah, don't you think it was time we change that?" Violetta sassed back, her tone suggesting that it was only innocent words it was like a snake with venom biting its predators.

"What do you want?" Roxanne snapped at her. She hated playing these mind games Violetta loved to play.

"What makes you think I want something?"

"It's in your nature. So spit it out," Roxanne spat.

"Oh dear mother. You were always so ignorant about your affair with Za'av Weston, didn't you stop to think if somebody knew about the affair for years and years? The only thing I want is to be president..." Violetta dropped her voice to a near whisper. "All you have to do is tell Panem that you're resigning from the President's position and die a tragic death and the President's position will be mine."

President Roxanne paled at those words of her love affair. Somebody known for years about her love affairs of course, Violetta was a liar, anything that came out of her mouth was either a lie or poison. But Roxanne couldn't help but wonder if somebody had known her affairs over the years and they had told no one about her affairs or even told the president about it. "Y-You're wrong," she shouted without realizing that she had stuttered. The usual confident, casual facade president was nervous about this discussion.

"Am I?"

"So am I going to be president or not?" Violetta yawned.

"Absolutely not. You're not going to take another step towards me or will you ever be the President of Panem. The position will be Ruina when she turns eighteen," Roxanne argued with Violetta.

Violetta stormed off pulling off the buds that the flowers were forming at along the way. Roxanne managed to keep her facade prefect before she felt like she was alone and started crying in the garden. She failed as a mother to properly raise Violetta if only she had noticed the changes in her voice and body language, maybe she could have figured out what was bothering Violetta and maybe she would not be this sour, toad face bitch as a daughter.

Meanwhile, Roxanne headed back to her penthouse. She was seething and she wanted to punch something or someone hard. The elevator opened and Violetta stepped out. She saw her clinging boyfriend, Dexton on the floor sobbing her eyes out.

"Get up you old fool." Violetta kicked her boyfriend on his side and he looked up and saw Violetta standing in front of him.

"Oh I'm so glad you're home. I missed you and the penthouse was awfully quiet without you," Dexton sobbed as he hugged her. Violetta wanted to gag.

Violetta hated the clinging, pathetic excuse of a man and wished she could break up with him but the only reason she had stayed with him for a month was because he was wealthy and had many connections to people.

* * *

 **So that was prologue 1 out of five. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but I was already finished with the chapter sooner. I am hoping for more submissions and a writing partner to help with the chapters. Submit how many you want until I receive a boy for the district. The next chapter will be the mentors.**

 **Also please pm me if you want to write with me for the chapters.**

 **For the submissions, I like the names Luna, Cress, Cinder, Ivy as names if you're creating the tributes for those names great, I would fall in love with them. Also please have younger tributes and not all older tributes. There most likely be more than twenty-four tributes depending when someone submits a male for that district. All careers from 1,2, and 4 must volunteer no expectations**

 **See you next time,**

 **Fire**


	3. Prologue 2

**Damnit, here's prologue three which turned into two because of the mentors. I will be changing it slightly for the prologues but if there isn't five don't worry.**

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The study was by far the best room in the penthouse. Violetta had made sure of that. If she was to work, she would do it in style. So far her role as Gamemaker had been more publicity than any actual work. Every party she had been to had just been a play for power on Violetta's part. Roxanne would not last long as president. The president was just another pawn on Violetta's board.

oOo

She sat at a straight backed chair, surrounded by plans and diagrams of previous arenas and Quarter Quells. Something big was needed. Something huge. She traced her finger down a diagram of the 75th Hunger Games. It had been a shame Plutarch had betrayed the Capitol. He had had a great mind. She peered at the plans for the fourth hour. Jabberjays. She turned to her computer and bought up some footage.

'Look at them.' She smiled. 'Two brave victors reduced to blubbering babies.' She scrolled through more footage of previous Quarter Quells. The 125th anniversary. Twins. She laughed as she watched the footage. Slowly ideas formed. Memories. Hallucinations. She stretched her slender arms across the table. Physical had never been her forte. But after all, mental was the cruellest form of torture.

oOo

Ideas pecked at the edge of Violetta's mind. Not all of them related to the Games. The study was decked out in all of the latest technology from the Capitol. Laurels of budding veratrum crowded the desk, matching the fully bloomed ones in her hair. A long line of Snow's had always appeared publicly with a white rose tucked into their front pocket. But where was the poison in the rose, where was the deceit? No, the veratrum matched Violetta's stone heart. Turning back to her diagrams Violetta heard the echo of footsteps from down the hall.

"Violetta? Do you care for tea?" Dexton rushed into the study and threw his arms around around her. She slapped him hard and looked at the man coldly.

"I will not be joining you." She turned back to her work. Dexton sunk to his knees, the marks on his face still red from where he had been slapped.

"Oh please, Violetta."

"I said 'NO!' Damn you. You fool." She kicked him hard with her boot before calling to the guards stationed outside her door to remove her snivelling boyfriend. Even the day one the guards had known who was in charge.

'Now. Back to work.' She drew up some sketchy diagrams, but put them aside hurriedly. She had never really been good at drawing. It had always been in the mind for Violetta. She didn't need diagrams, she had plans. Big plans. It wouldn't just be the tributes who would suffer these Games.

* * *

 **Thank you FlyingHamburgerRider for writing this chapter so quickly which I wasn't expecting.**

 **The more you review the better your tribute does. So the submissions are closed on August 3rd maybe before if I receive plenty of submissions.**


	4. Prologue 3

**Keep the submissions coming until August 3 or until I receive enough submissions that I will close the SYOT. I encourage everyone to submit two or more, also the more you review the better the chance that your tribute might win. Anyways here's one half of mentors. Important, Rape is wrong and the aftereffects are the worse.**

 **Trigger Warnings: Thoughts of suicide, attempt of suicide, sexual abuse,**

 **Anyways, here's Prologue #3**

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Prologue #2 Mentors

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Queena Dellseconds, 22,

victor of 195th annual Hunger Games from District 1

* * *

Queena flashed a pretty smile to the crowd and they fell instantly in love with her once more. This was her job act like a model, mentor during the games and go back to the Victor's Village for a few months then repeat all over again. It was arduous at first but she handled it quickly. After all, in District 1, people had to look appealing to everyone so they would fall head over heels and be great at weapons, maintain a social life without crumbling. Queena's father told her that during her rebellious stage in her early teenage years after refusing to attend the academy and the gala that was hosted every year for the tributes who had returned alive in district 1 right after their Victory tour.

Queena remembered her Victory tour, well of course, it was five years ago. She enjoyed the festivals in her honor and riding the train throughout the districts. The only thing she hated about her Victory tour was acting sympathy towards the district, driving Queena to the point of insanity. Although, her victory tour had almost drove her insane but she was slightly crazy. It was like she was taking drugs or acting sober of her small case of craziness while in fact she wasn't. She was a clean victor taking away the pain by ripping up paper, because being a model; she was not allowed to drink nor touch whiskey or other refreshment drinks or touch morphine that victors had right after they won. The only expectation was a party or she was only allowed one glass.

"Queena are you up?!" Her manager, Brendon Marshall screamed in her ear.

Queena looked up to see Brendon only a foot away from her. Oh fuck, he looked pissed at her. She must had fallen asleep once more in her dressing room after she was done strutting down the catwalk. Her next line of clothes was on the floor to act like a bed for her. "Sorry, I must had fallen asleep," Queena apologized. She left out the part that she did not get a good night sleep last night or any other night in the week.

"Jesus fuck, are you not sleeping once more. We could stop by the Capitol and get you the sleeping potion that will enhance your sleeping more," her escort, Bess commented.

"That's it your going back time to District 1," Brendon hissed.

"But-what about," Queena was at lost for words to properly form. It was partially her fault also, she had not slept for more than two hours per day and it already was taking a toll on her mentally and physically even the endless supply of coffee did not help her at all, it just made her more exhausted than she already was. Queena had drank the sleeping potion the last of it available on the train last night and it still had not helped her at all. Queena had still received the nightmares that came with winning the Hunger Games but for the five years, it was not so bad as it was now. For the past five years, the nightmares only come once a month just like her period did but now as time continued on, the nightmares were getting worse and worser every passing night.

She had even wondered since the nightmares were getting worse for her, if she just quit her job at modeling and settle down in her house in the Victor's Village. She had not seen her friends that were also victors, Chloe and Goldine in five months.

Queena's final thought of the night before she hopped into her bed, _Will I ever be normal again? Modeling is my life and I don't want to lose it..._

* * *

Romulus Aspergand, 33,

victor of the 185th annual Hunger Games from District 2

* * *

Being the victor of the Hunger Games was amazing, even though Romulus won fifteen years ago, he was still well known and well loved. He had mentored every tribute into his care along with Agatha's help or someone else. He brought back 8 tributes, and the rest were dead. At least he got what he wanted; Fame and admire.

He knew he should give Atticus, Wolf and Four a chance at mentoring but he was so damn good at it.

"Cressida, what are you doing here?" He manage to say before his lips were captured by Cressida.

Cressida was his lover or fiance if she called it. She was pregnant with his child and he couldn't be more proud. Ever since his parents died when he was little, he never felt love before. Cressida was arrogant and a little bossy but he loved her anyways. After his child is born then he was going to quit mentoring and spend time with his child and soon to be wife.

"I'm having twins, two girls to be exact," Cressida said after she broke the kiss.

"Two daughters..." He was speechless and didn't had anything to say. He assumed that he was going to have one child and not two and sons.

"Yes, I was thinking about Rhea and Lilith for names," Cressida responded. Romulus couldn't respond at her comment and he had no words for he was still in shock. Being an orphan is one thing, being a girlfriend to another victor was another but being the father of not one daughter but two is unheard of. "Are you happy?"

Romulus clutched his fists tightly. He had no way to respond but his arrogant, cocky side was getting the best of him. "I'm not happy. I'm angry. I hate that I'm having two daughters and they couldn't be strong men. All girls are is weak, good for nothing and only supply men heirs... You should get an abortion!"

She gasped and clutched her showing belly. Her daughters meant everything to her and the insult to women was outrageous and unheard of. Women and Men were created equally including races. It was probably her fault, for being a black girl. Cressida was never taken seriously and she had to work twice as hard for people to realize how much she could do. "Romulus, I hate you and I break up with you if your going to act like that!" She shouted and exited his house.

He left is head look down on the floor, _what had he done?_

* * *

Tecna Bridges, 42

victor of the 173rd annual Hunger Games from District 3

* * *

It was a miracle that she got out of the arena. Tecna saw it as an escape from her personal hell. From being sexual abused, to being abused to not being smart enough. Even though her name was technology , she was stupid to the district. From her school days, for getting bad grades and getting bullied for being incredibly dumb for not knowing how to code a program.

She had two beautiful young sons and three girls. Her oldest, Crescent was married and didn't talk to her as much. Crescent kept muttering of how much a failure of a mother she was and she had almost killed Tecna. She burned her badly that her face was numb on her left side and eye on the right side was nailed shut. She was hideous and everyone who knew her thought she was a morphine freak of her terrifying nature and withdrawal personality.

"What do you want?" Tecna hissed, crossing her arms.

Deci, a fellow victor who won back in the late 140th Hunger Games was standing in Tecna's doorway. "We need you to mentor this year," Deci said.

"We agreed almost two decades ago that I was never going to mentor or else I'll give the tributes a nightmare because of what happened when one of my daughters tried to kill me and sacred my face. Can't get Pixela to mentor in my place?" Tecna explained.

"Tecna, Pixela is...dead."

"What?" Tecna was Pixela's best friend and also the victor of the not really recent of the 163rd annual Hunger Games. They were inseparable and Pixela taken care of her while she had the worst fever in all of her lifetime, and she almost died. Pixela helped her with her ugly appearance and manage to keep her sane while Tecna had the nightmares from her games, and she still have them but not as bad as before.

"Pixela killed herself. She hung herself from the stairs and she had a suicide note saying that she couldn't stand the nightmares and the alcoholic person she lived with," Deci explained.

Ah, the alcoholic. It wasn't a mystery who the alcoholic person was. It was her husband who often abused her and leave dark blue bruises coated on her albino skin. One time, Tecna walked over to her house and found Pixela's husband beating the crap out of her and Tecna swore she would never tell anyone and she would take it to the grave. It was funny of how literal that actually was and know once Tecna was dead, no one would know that Pixela's husband abused her.

If this was going to be her first year mentoring after the accident then she would have to change her ways and hope that she was going to bring back a tribute alive.

* * *

Poseidon Bellwright, 20,

victor of the 196th annual Hunger Games from District 4

* * *

Poseidon already knew he was awesome and he was on everyone's lips day or night. With tricking the careers, that he was just a weak reaped boy that only had an older brother and his parents died before he could say the word 'Victory'. Even though he was in his early twenties, he was still mildly proud that he won against his odds and boasted at every chance he got. After all, you can't win the crowd with the weak, pathetic self.

Everyone had adored him and fell in love instantly in love with him especially with his flirtatious smile and his playful blue eyes that matched the color of the ocean. Poseidon was well loved and everyone in the Capitol and the districts often spoke about him.

Besides that he was very flirtatious, he was very rude and never brought home a victor while he was mentoring for one of the stupid brats who were positive that they were going to win but quickly dies with the stupid, idiotic tributes that managed to outsmart them and every year, he would drink away his misery and sorrow with a glass of whiskey. The tributes that were in his care died. The District 4 mentors agreed that he had to get at least one victor that was in his care for mentoring then he could switch off with another male victor. It was in the unofficial rule book the victors followed.

"Glow, are you sure I haven't seen you before? You just look awfully familiar," Poseidon muttered before Glow cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him.

"Sweetheart. You're just to ignorant for your own good and that is one of your weakness. You can't even recognize my familiar charms while I wrap you around my finger," Glow whispered, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

It was true, Poseidon was a sucker for blondes and with Glow's familiar face that was often mistaken by Aqua, another victor that looked strikingly similar to Glow. It was Glow's attitude that threw him off, it reminded of his girlfriend that broke up with him right before he was going to enter the car that was going to lead him to the train. Tidess cheated on him for a few years, and she acted just like Tidess did. "No..."

Glow smiled sweetly, a little to sweetly. It made Poseidon want to hurl and lose his lunch. "Honey badger."

Poseidon paled drastically as he realized what Glow just called him. Honey badger was Tidess' nickname for him after he ran like the hills to find the honey she had hid behind his back. Poseidon was so damn ignorant, the bitch that was standing right across from him was tidess but it was impossible. Tidess just changed her name into Glow to make it less suspecting, but damn was he freaking wrong.

"You're not real," Poseidon hissed, clutching his teeth from lashing out. Four years ago, he vowed to never get played like some fool and never get hurt ever again but he guessed that old habits die hard.

"Honey badger, I am real. All I want is for you to fall in love with me," Glow hissed.

"I'm never going to fall with your scheming mind tricks at all. Ever again," Poseidon hissed.

Glow huffed and acted like she was a ditz for a second that she was denied what she wanted and left his house, leaving him alone with his thoughts. _Oh my snow, how he was about to be under Tidess' wrath once more and falling in love with her, pff._

* * *

Catherine Midnightken, 49,

Victor of the 168th annual Hunger Games from District 5

* * *

 _Sweet merlin, how did she put with this?_ Catherine had no idea how she put up with all of this drama. It was so typical to her ears that she wince every time. Her students were arguing about who was going to preform first at the recital that was coming up in just a few days. Catherine's students were anxious and very passionate about their music and each of them was magnificent in their own way.

"Settle down," Catherine commanded, her students silent down and gathered around her.

One of her students that was younger than anyone else raised her hand and asked, "Can you play us a song before we do our solos to see which one of us is going to preform?"

Catherine nodded and headed towards the piano. Being a piano teacher was hard and she played the song. Her fingers slid to the wrong note and she wince. Catherine could still feel the dragon breath of the late, Michael Neveraking. Michael was Catherine's piano teacher and he died shortly before she came back home from mentoring a second year. _Focus, Catherine. Play like no one is watching you._ It was easier to say than do.

Her fingers stopped abruptly over a measure. It was tricky and she could imagine the beady chocolate eyes staring into her soul but as time continued on, Catherine's fingers started clamming and she forced herself to stop the music that was coming from the piano. It was too hard but Catherine wasn't the type to give up like that.

She ran away from the piano, covering her ears and huddled into a corner muttering, "I can't do this... Go away... Don't touch me." frequently. It was then that Catherine's students took her to the hospital that she has schizophrenia and mild depression.

Catherine just sat there not responding to anything the doctors did. She was far from her own mind and often muttered that the room was covered in blood.

She was released from the hospital with medication and taken back home to be there for a week before the reaping was going to take place.

* * *

Scott Bran, 79,

Victor of the 139 annual Hunger Games from District 6

* * *

Scott took another swing of whiskey. It was harder being a victor than he thought. No was there for him and to support him throughout the games and before he was reaped. Everyone he knew was done and he should be also.

No one cares for the orphan kid.

Scott had no parents or none at least he could remember. His memory was slipping and he did not remember anything from his childhood to the moment he got reaped. It was one of the hardest moments in his life and he could remember it clearly as though it was yesterday.

Scott took another drink of the whiskey bottle he was drinking and carefully set it down.

 _No one cares about the orphan kid. Once I'm dead no one will miss me._

He carefully got up, even though he was old he could still walk like a thirty year old. He entered the room where his young child was killed. Suicide.

Scott got out the rope where he kept in his young son's closet and tied a noose in the closet. He was ready to do this. Scott wasn't going to chicken out like last time.

He wrote a small note and carefully got up on the chair and tighten the noose on his neck. He kicked back the chair and hanged there.

Scott drifted away from consciousness and passed out, still living but almost dead.

* * *

Petunia Zoliharva, 34

Victor of the 180th annual Hunger Games from District 7

* * *

Petunia kissed her daughter's red head from all that blood. It was finally worth it, she was raising three daughters on her own and this baby was miracle.

"What's her name?" The nurse asked.

"Willow Petunia Zoliharva," Petunia whispered after a minute it. Willow clung to Petunia for a second then started crying.

The nurse put Willow down in the cot and stepped out, Maple and Fiona stepped into the room.

"Mom." Fiona went and hugged her. Petunia hugged her back and laid a small kiss on top of her thick, black hair. Secretly, Petunia favorited Fiona more than Maple. She loved her children and hope for the best.

Maple, and Fiona were everything to her and now also little Willow. They kept the nightmares of the Hunger Games away and she didn't have to feel the apprehension, the other parents did when their kids got reaped or not. Petunia's children were lucky that they didn't have to get reaped. Maple and Fiona always enjoyed going to the Capitol with her whenever she was chosen to volunteer. It was going to be a problem with little Willow as she was going to be breastfed and formula fed and she had no one to take care of her.

Petunia had no husband nor boyfriend to take care of her children while she was away mentoring the tributes that was more than likely die in the arena. Petunia's sister Nichelle abhorred her and wanted nothing to do with her or her three children. It was more than likely that Maple and Fiona could stay home and help take care of Willow but she had no clue what was going to happen.

Nine months ago, she was keen about the idea of another child growing inside her alongside Zack, her husband. Zach and Petunia was keen in having another child to raise but three months later, Zack died in the lumber yard along with others.

 _What was she going to do?_

Maple and Fiona could stay home and take care of Willow while she was gone for a couple of weeks until the games ended or she could ask Scarlet or Rosie to take her spot for mentoring and she could mentor the next games by then Willow was walking and eat solids but she had to think about it. If only, Willow was born while she was in the Capitol waiting for people to slaughter her tributes. Petunia already promised she was going to mentor this year before she had even got pregnant by Zack.

Petunia had to think about something and fast as time was quickly ticking away.

* * *

Silken Kingston, 34,

Victor of the 175th annual Hunger Games

* * *

Silken visited Lacey right before he had to return back to his house. He was tired mentally, emotionally and physically. It had almost been twenty-five years since he had won against all odds and tributes that was two years older than him. All Silken wanted to do was sleep forever but he knew he couldn't as he was a fashion designer and people from all over Panem awaited for his new line of fashion to come out.

Even though, Silken was rich he helped make sure that the orphanages around the district had food and other household items and he kinda lost all of his victor's money and jewels by donating it to everyone in the district. He wasn't keen at the idea of mentoring and maybe this year, he could bring back a tribute alive and not in a wooden basket as he watched his tributes that was in his care get slaughtered with no mercy as the careers dig in their weapons on them.

"Are you sure I have to mentor this year?" He practically whined.

"Silken, we already discussed this earlier. You...are...mentoring...this...year...because... Charles...and...Xavier...doesn't...want...too," Lacey drawled slowly. "Now get it through your thick skull." Lacey raised up her soft voice and Silken wince.

He hated loud noises being in the arena on a Quarter Quell really messed him up. He no longer slept peacefully as he once did and when he does he kept a knife close to him. Silken was afraid of everything especially little noises that brings him back those painful memories. Dissociation. (Note Write definition before publishing) That was what Silken had.

"Of course, Lacey," Silken muttered before he limped away. Silken had been limping ever since he was born since his left foot was shorter than his right foot. He could've got an operation since he had the money but he didn't bother too. Whenever people stopped and asked, Silken replied in a funny way that made people laughed.

At least he had one week to enjoy. Not. He would rather be dead than go to the Capitol. The ignorant, stupid, lazy, and wealthy Capitol, the list is endless.

* * *

Cynthia Frenderjen, 19,

Victor of the 198th annual Hunger Games from District 9

* * *

Cynthia still felt dirty as she scrubbed herself raw once again on the same day. She could still feel his cock inside her, the harsh pounding, the bruises that dusted over her olive skin tone like the midnight sky.

 _Stop it, Cynthia_ she told herself. It had been a day since he had fucked her in his pleasure never hers. She abhorred him of what he made her feel. Worthless, Slut, sex freak, the list could go on but she never felt more alone then ever.

Cynthia had no friends and her family didn't blink an eye as every night she went to bed with tears pouring out from her hazel eyes and she prayed to herself that her father wouldn't come tonight while she was asleep. She grabbed the scissors from the drawer that was next to the toilet and started cutting her brownish locks.

She was so upset that she didn't feel the scissors cutting her scalp and the mess that she made in tub until she sorta calmed herself down and saw most of her hair was in the tub drench with water. Cynthia hated being the victim of the rape that her father forces him on her and acts like she was a second level citizen in front of her hideous stepmother and her two stepbrothers that sometimes joins in the fun with her father.

It had been going on for a year and there was nothing to stop him. Cynthia was forced to act innocent and nothing has happened during the night. Everyone ignored Cynthia like she was a piece of trash and they didn't pay attention to the bruises that mysteriously formed on her skin over night.

"Get a grip, Cynthia," She muttered, choking back another sob. She was tired of it all and she blocked herself from remembering the harsh touchings.

Cynthia known that the only way to stop this was kick her family out but it was easier said than done. She wasn't confident and she never rose her voice above a whisper. She turned off the water and stepped onto the rug. It used to comfort her while she was upset but now it didn't. It was just a stupid piece of furniture that could easily get replaced.

 _Why didn't I die in the arena? No one cares about me... All they do is just gawked at other people never noticing me._ Cynthia thought.

Was she really that hideous that her father took pity on her? The rape was her fault.

* * *

Rocky Emmoris, 45,

Victor of the 171 annual Hunger Games from District 10

* * *

Rocky clenched his teeth as the other victors discussed around him of who was going to mentor. There was only three females who mentored and some of the mentors just passed.

"Jivina, why don't you mentor this year?" The oldest living victor, Harold asked placing another damn cigarette on his lips.

Jivina made a sound that oddly sounded like a chuckle. "Harold, baby. There is no way I would want to mentor this year. My girlfriend and I are going to find two twins."

Harold didn't blink at the response but continued on, "Right then... Callidora and... Rocky will be mentoring the tributes this year."

Callidora and Rocky looked at each other in horror. There was no way Rocky was mentoring with her. Rumors had it that Callidora lost her brain while she was in the arena and killed the remaining tributes by cutting their soft organs out of their bodies. Rocky had no clue if that was true but if it was; he was getting their short end of the stick and Rocky didn't want to become a victim to psychopath.

Rocky always thought the games Callidora was in was rigged as the Capitol never allowed crazy tributes to go home as a victor. It happened over a century ago, as Titus killed tributes without no mercy and the game makers killed him off but those games were history.

"Baby-doll, I look forward to mentoring with you," Callidora whispered before she had a mad fit of giggles. Yep, she was a manic.

Rocky paled and hurried back to his house. There was no way he was mentoring with her. Rocky heard stories and he realized that those couldn't be true. He was going to die. Rocky cheated death once and now he was entering death's doorstep once more.

* * *

Lila Tecknoshalla, 22,

Victor of the 193rd annual Hunger Games from District 11

* * *

Lila was no one special. She was pretty with her Asian skin and thin, black hair that reached her bum. That was what she missed in being a Victor from no place special. A place where everyone was dark skin and starving and yet, she was alive and not starving.

Lila wanted to be a nobody once more. Someone who no one paid attention too, someone who worked all day to make a living for herself and her family or what she called family back then before well nothing special.

That was Lila's motive everyday. Make sure no one recognized her on the walk way. She didn't had any friends besides Peony but Peony was always busy to hang out with her.

"Lila are you even listening?!" Taylor yelled to her snapping her away from her pondering thoughts.

"What?" She muttered.

"You are mentoring," Taylor commented in a monotone way.

Lila let out a small sigh. She had no choice and mentor since all of the other victors didn't want to do it, complaining that they were too busy. Lila didn't want to visit the Capitol once again after the victory party.

All she wanted to do is just be normal?

But did she really wanted to be normal?

* * *

 **The mentors was shown well one half of them. This story is really fun to write. Also these dates are important for the reapings. District 12 doesn't have any alive victors so it's a Capitol person.**

 **District 1-4 are due on July 17**

 **District 5-8 are due July 24**

 **District 9-12 are due August 1**

* * *

Some background knowledge:

District 1: still same

District 2: same

District 3: better economy

District 4: same

District 5: same

District 6: less gang violence but still is morphine

7,8,9,10 are still same.

11: people have some food but not much but they are sorta starving

12: due to the coal that is now found deeper, the district is the medicine now.

 **More you review better tribute does. FHR I'll be pming soon for next chapter. I'm play CAH right now so see you later.**

 **Fire**


	5. Prologue 4

**Do you guys really think this story is amazing? I am getting so much love and adorable tributes that I want to live but let's see who is going to win in the chapters to come. Can you guys submit more tributes preferably Districts 1-4 as their chapters will be together.**

 **...**

Avora Iridon, arena designer, fifteen years ago

* * *

Avora skimmed towards the end of the letter. The letter held her acceptance in being an architect for the eighth Quarter Quell that was in fifteen years and she was hyped about it. It was rumored that the eighth Quarter Quell was going to become a legend and have more bloodshed. The last Quarter Quell, was really monotone and there was not a lot of bloodshed the Capitol wanted.

In fifteen years, this arena will be the magnificent anyone had ever seen and possibly the most creative. Avora carefully got out her journal which held the arena ideas in it. Over the years, being an architect was her dream job throughout her childhood and she collected scraps of paper and metal for her journal well the metal was for the same project but different use.

Avora stood in the area where the arena was going to be and the workers pooled around each other to build the arena and her idea was superb comparing to the Quarter Quell arenas that was used before.

Avora knew what the arena will be in fifteen years since it was her arena that she designed. Let's just say it kinda looked like the third Quarter Quell that she visited so many times.

* * *

Maryann Xotothes, head stylist of the Quarter Quell

* * *

Maryann was jubilant that the packages had came in for the tributes to wear. There was a lot more packages than usual since it was a Quarter Quell and for the Quarter Quell, the females were going to be also tributes until they had chosen a male tribute. She was giddy about it and her costumes were going to get a use.

"What's this?" Another stylist that did the District 3 costumes held up the costumes.

Maryann ordered over one hundred clothes the tributes were going to have in the arena. There were over five hundred clothes the tributes wore depending on what day it was. This year was going to make the stylists cranky as fuck for sending the the required clothes to them.

"There are five clothes that your tribute needs for the arena," Maryann explained.

"Why?" Someone questioned.

"Because of the Quarter Quell, you moron!" She hissed. "It's for the arena."

If Maryann wasn't a stone cold bitch then she would have cracked a laugh at their puzzled expressions. It was brilliant.

* * *

 **I know this chapter was short because I am running dry out of ideas, I could do reapings and then to the games but never prologues. There isn't no rebellion in this story so that sucks. I might as well start the reapings or do the last chapter of mentors next chapter. What do you guys think? I desperately need tributes from Districts 1 to 4. Two is probably closed but I'll go see how many submissions I have for District 2.**

 **See you later,**

 **Fire**


	6. Sponsoring system

**I interrupt the story (I sound like those news people). The updates are going to be more slower as I am in the musical (Yay not), lack of inspiration/muse (Why?!). And here's the sponsoring system.**

 **I'm keeping this vague but not to vague. So the way to get points is by mostly reviewing and submitting characters. Each first tribute gets 50 points each for each submission regardless of bloodbath or not. 10 points after it regardless of bloodbath or not. Short review gets 2 and medium/long gets five**

 **/=or in this case**

Food:

Small items (a fruit, vegetable): 5 points

Small meal (fruit/vegetable and a piece of meat of your choice): 10 points

Crackers: 8 points

Bread (4 each): 15 points

Large meal (Fruit, vegetable, bread and meat of choice): 30 points

Carton of fruit: 25 points

1 serving Broth/Soup (type, chicken, beef, each): 5 points

 _Pm me or review if there isn't an item on the list I'll add it on_

Weapons:

Dagger (5): 10 points

Machete: 15 points

Bow and Arrow (type): 20 points includes 12 arrows

Knife (type, pm me): 20 points

Sword ( type pm me): 25 points

Crossbow: 30 points

Spear: 25 points

Trident: 25 points

Mace: 30 points

Kantana: 30 points

Blowgun + 15 darts: 40 points

(Poison darts): 10 points

Axe: 35 points

Slingshot: 25 points

Scythe: 45 points

 _Survival:_

Book on edible plants: 50 points

camouflage kit: 50 points (includes paintbrush, mud and berries)

Matches: 2 points

flint/steel: 5 points

Rope: 8 points (10 ft)

Tent: 50 points (can fit up to 25 tributes) Pm me to find out of a 2 or 5 person tent (Quick to build)

Blanket: (Thin, small blanket) 10 points

Large thin blanket: 10 points

thick small blanket: 15 points

thick large blanket: 20 points

New tribute jacket: 40 points

First aid kit: 45 points (bandages, gauze, painkillers, etc)

gauze: 10 points

painkillers: 15 points

bandages: 5 points

Empty water bottle: 10 points

Water bottle filled with water: 15 points

Pm me if something not on list

 **Hope that is helps. First of all, stop pming of are you going to finish this story its kinda getting on my nerves. I need more submissions more boys, so yeah. Still could submit girls also.**

 **No more offerings, final list: Me, JessicaEmerson, FlyingHamburgerRider and Platypus27**


	7. District 1

District 1 - Plantanium Glitzered

"Still can't believe he got away with it." Sophomore said.

"I know." Kyile gestured to his sling. "My parents are so mad, but they can't say anything - Dad works for Glitzered Mining Industries. But what I can't believe is that the school just ignored it! Mr Madona was right there!" The two kept walking down the lane.

"We're late." Groaned Sophomore. "Can't we just cut through Ponshout St?"

Kyile shook his head and gestured towards the usual route. "Ponshout St is where he lives." Sophomore's face went pale. He grabbed Kyile by arm and pulled him into an alley.

"Wha-" Kyile saw what Sophomore was looking at."Plantanium's gang." he whispered, scared.

The three boys all shared the same burly characteristics. Bulging stomachs stuck out from shredded tunics, their pudgy legs sticks out from a massive frame. Greg, Robert and Cacy blundered down the road in a a slow lope. Their meaty feet were stuck inside tattered boots that had probably fit when they had been 10. The three were simpletons who blindly followed boys in positions of power. Four years before it had been Joe Housto, now it was Plantanium. The boys entered a large manor dominating the street. They pushed open the door and were greeted by Gold at the mat. Gold's blonde hair stuck up in curls at the top of his head. His eyes were sparked with a mischievous twinkle but his mouth was curled into a frown as he looked up at the boys.

"Plantanium's with the others in his room." He sighed. Gold waited until the boys had passed in through the doorway and darted out onto the street. He ran down the road and caught up to his friends.

"Hey guys." He puffed.

"Hey Gold." Smiled Sophomore.

"Why are you going this way?" Gold asked. "We can cut through my street."

"Are you sure?" Kyile didn't want to be late to the academy but he was scared of Gold's older brother.

"Come on." Urged Gold. "The older grades hace permission to wag today, but we don't." His friends looked hesitant but they followed Gold down the paved street. Inside the house Plantanium was meeting with his friends. At least, that is what he thought. Xyler smiled at the boy sitting across from him. If Plantanium had a single brain cell he might've realised that since Xyler had made friends with him, Xyler's family had benefited from all the luxuries a weekly 100,000 pay check from Glitzered Mining Industries could offer. So had all the others in this room. Price waltzed into the room, closely followed by Ruby. Plantanium's mother bent down and offered a platter of cookies to the group. Price leaned in and tried to snatch one of the platter, but Plantanium flicked his hand away and took a cookie for himself.

"Too slow, Price." He laughed. Price laughed too, as he plucked Plantanium's cookie from his fingers.

"I'm afraid it is you, brother, who is too slow." Price clasped Plantanium's hand in his and laughed once more.

"Next time." Plantanium promised angrily, sneering at his brother.

"Come on boys." Ruby laughed and tried to ruffle her younger son's hair, but Price darted away before she could do so.

"No, Mother." he turned. "Hello, Xyler, I'll be waiting at the usual spot, usual time. Bring it." He leered in Xyler's direction and the scrawy sixteen-year-old recoiled in his chair.

"You can go now Price." Plantanium's voice was a dull monotone.. "You too Mother." Price smiled cruelly at his brother before exiting along with his mother.

Plantanium turned back to his gathered group. He was tanned brown, with jet black hair smoothed downwards. His bare chest was picked out in a six-pack that was partially shadowed by is tall build. His eyes bore into the boys seated across from him, brown, almost black.

"So boys, are you ready for today?"

"I dunno Plantanium." A short boy looked worriedly up from his position on the floor. "Maybe we should be at the Academy."

All eyes turned.

"Are you saying I'm wrong?" Growled Plantanium.

"No."

"Oh." He stooped down the the boy's level. "But I think you are. Cacy, Robert, take him." The two boys stood and lugged the boy out of the room. Plantanium smiled back at the group.

"Anyone else?" The group was silent. "Good." He flexed his muscles. "Let's continue."

* * *

District 1 - Bridget Neverland

Bridget sifted her hand through her bland array of multicoloured XL shirts. She pulled out a maroon t-shirt and held it to her chest as she showed Alodia. Her friend sighed.

"I'm no expert Bridget. But I feel something more than your training shirt is required today." She picked up a teal dress from the chair by the door.  
"See this. This is more what you should be wearing - a good impression on the Capitol always pays."

Bridget nodded.

"Yeah." Alodia threw Bridget the dress. Bridget turned and slipped it over her head, smoothing out the creases in the skirt. She turned to the mirror suspended above her fireplace, tucking an unruly strand of black hair behind her ear and securing it with a pin. She touched the mark on her face.

"It's never bothered you before." Alodia raised an eyebrow.

"I know." She said, flustered. "But -" Alodia sighed and pulled her out the door and into the Neverland's parlour. Azhar sat with his head buried in the latest paper from the Capitol, headlined with the title 'ROXANNE LEADS CAPITOL MACHINERY INSTITUTES TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE.'

"Hey Dad." Bridget said as she waved Neilson over to take her order.

"You are so lucky having a butler Bridget." Alodia whispered. "Wish I had one. I bet only 5% of this entire district has one!"

Bridget flushed scarlet.

"Yeah." Alodia was the only person Bridget really talked to, but even around her she felt uncomfortable. Neilson set a bowl of chocolates down and the girls grabbed a few before heading out onto the street where Cleo waited. Cleo used to live with Bridget at the manor but had moved out as soon as she had turned 18, feeling that her parents were to supportive of 'that goddamn Capitol.' The two sisters still saw each other's but Cleo refused to step foot into the house so they met at Cleo's new house instead. Cleo would ride her bike over and then Bridget and Alodia would follow her has she went back. They could've taken Cleo's car but Bridget was terrified of the sound the engine made as it chuffed up the hill on Main Street. So instead they darted brought the back alleys towards Cleo's. They pedalled hard down the alleys, the wheels juddering over the uneven cobble of the backstreet. The group pulled over in front of a saggy grey building covered in ivy. The windows were clouded and shattered in places. Bridget loved the place. Cleo pushed open the door slowly, taking care not to push it off its hinges. She strode into the hallway where Scott was waiting. She pecked her boyfriend on the lips before guiding us into the training room.

The training room was a mess of mannikins and practice swords, all evidence of Cleo and Bridget's repetitive training. Bridget did go to the Academy, but she needed more. Something to put her on top. Last year Alodia had joined in too, but since turning 19 she had slacked off. Bridget didn't mind practicing alone with Cleo, but she couldn't help feeling relieved when Alodia came too.

"Are you ready for today?" Cleo asked casually thrust a blunt tip at Bridget's head.

"Yeah." She partied the blow with ease and went right back on the offensive. Alodia meanwhile had picked up an unused crossbow in the corner. She dusted off the cobwebs and loaded the bow. Bridget didn't even need to turn to know her friend had hit the crossbow. When they were young, Alodia's bow skills were legendary, now they were expected. Alodia and Bridget had just started sparring as the call to gather in the square boomed. Cleo tucked a strand Bridget's hair back behind her ear and pushed her out the door towards the bikes.

"Good luck."

* * *

 **That was a small headache to edit the code since I accidentally deleted some information and was going to copy it again and paste it but the page decided to refresh on me and I had to start all over again. Again, I need Districts 5 to 8 now please, so create characters and send them. Districts 1 to 4 is closed but 5-12 is open.**

 **Also the more you review the better your tribute does.**

 **Thanks FlyingHamburgerRider for writing this chapter quickly**


	8. District 2

District 2 - Lime Malachite

"Now Lime, we know that you have only been at the Academy for a month now..."

Lime nodded in confirmation.

"But we have looked at your request and have decided that you could be a potential victor." Headmaster Jux let it hand in the air for a moment. "The youngest victor ever in district 2."

Lime just stared. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"I-I-..."

Jux smiled.

"What do you think?"

Lime's heart beat loud against his chest.

"Yes." Was all he managed as he felt his throat tighten. Whether it was fear or delight he couldn't tell, but he sorely hoped it was the latter. This was the moment he had been waiting for. His thoughts drifted back to the picture of Finnick Odair he kept in a box by his bed. He had been 14 when he had won. Lime was 13. This was his moment. He could be the youngest victor from district 2 and no outlier tribute will win.

"Well, I would hope you will volunteer tomorrow." Jax raised an eyebrow./p

"Yes... Sir."

"Very well. Send Ivy in for me." He nodded and fumbled for his rucksack. Lime pushed open the door with sweaty hands.

"Your turn." Ivy sat calmly on the seat outside the office. Brown hair was held in a braid with a string of fabric that complimented her even darker eyes. Her head reached up to my shoulders, even when sitting down. Lime gestured for her to go in.

"He is waiting for you." He said. Ivy nodded and strode into the room. Lime ambled the bench, making his way out into an empty courtyard.

"What took you?" Clay asked. Lime clamped his mouth shut and looked quickly at Harquinne. He wouldn't tell them. Not yet. They started down the ling drive t the street, Clay looking slightly uncomfortable as Harquinne started to start a conversation. He wasn't much of a people person. Lime felt Harquinne's hand slip into his. He flushed scarlet and tried to catch her eye. But she wasn't looking at him any more. She was staring at Ivy who had just appeared from the main office building.

"Hey..." Harquinne's grip tightened. "Rumour has it that Ivy has been picked to volunteer." She turned to me, the bubbluiness was gone from her eyes.

"You wouldn't. You aren't. Lime!" He wrenched his hand away from Harquinne's and ran off. He shot a glance back at her crying face, devoid of any emotion. Clay had cradled her in his arms, but she was still staring at Lime, heart broken.

Lime drew his gaze away. He thundered down the masonry stairs and darted to meet his father by the trolleys.

"That one." Lapis barely looked up from his checklist. Lime nodded and heaved at the rock. He followed the long line of workers up the steep ramp to the top where it would be transported to the Capitol. His muscles burned and his legs were wobbly has he heaved the cart upwards. He had a flashback to when he had been 10, his first time in the mines had been pure torture. It had been when his family had fallen into bankruptcy and they needed another source of income. Now three years later, things were finally on the up. Amber had worked in the mines for a while too. The day she had turned ten and was eligible for work, Lapis had shoved her straight into the workforce. But Amber was thin and scrawny, and had started to wilt away in the darkness of the mines. It had got so bad that Lapis had no choice but to let her stay home. Surprisingly this had been more profitable for the family, as Amber's tiny hand's had drawn hundreds of dollars in pictures.

Lime shielded his eyes from the sun as his cart reached the surface. He pushed it over to the nearest truck and angled it across the back. He pulled one of the cart's sides upwards, knees buckling. he hitched the wheel over the rim and moved to the other side and hitched up the other wheel. He edged round to the back of the cart and hauled it into the truck. He flexed his muscles in the sunlight, his burden relieved. He couldn't help but wonder if he had been chosen for his strength or his youth and will to be the youngest victor. Before he headed back down into the tunnel he shot a look at the clock.

Four more hours until he stopped work.

Eighteen more hours until he was announced District 2's tribute.

* * *

District 2 - Ivy Butler

Some way down the hall the click chimed nine times. Ivy heard the echo as the bell clanked against the sides of the clock.

She sat with her hands under her legs, sitting precariously on the edge of the bench. Her head was lifted up, staring out into the courtyard. She could see two kids standing there, definitely not from the Academy, she was sure of that. Her brown eyes squinted closer, picking out a boy with curling black locks and Harquinne. She felt a pang as she watched the two wait eagerly for Lime to reappear from inside the office. She had friends too, they were just - busy. Their lack of dedication stung, but Ivy would move on, she had bigger things to worry about.

But she couldn't help but keep glancing back at Harquinne, thinking about why a girl with such wealthy parents would go for a guy like Lime. From what she had gathered Lime had only been here a month. She glanced at the door. A month? Out of all the people you could choose to go in the Games... Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floor coming from inside the office. She smoothed back her hair and stared coldly forward as Lime walked out.

His face was pale and his blue eyes were wide. His jaw was clenched tightly, as if he couldn't decide wether to scream or smile.

"Your turn." He murmured through his teeth, gesturing feebly too the door. Ivy glanced back at Lime as she hooked her fingers round the latch of the door. She watched coldly as he squared his shoulders and straightened up. Weak. She thought. Was this what the Academy was coming too? She sighed as she opened the door. Maybe this wasn't such an honour after all. But she refused to let herself think like that. Lime was proof that her district needed her - desperately.

She plastered on a smile as she sat herself down on the chair opposite Jax. The principal had his hands twined together on the table, resting on top of what looked like a form. Looking closely she saw her face in the top corner.

"You have been selected Ivy." If Jax was expecting a reaction he didn't get one. Ivy sat calmly in her seat, smiling pleasantly as Jax. Her face hadn't altered even slightly since she had sat down.

"I assume you will be volunteering?"

"Depends." The words rolled out before she could stop them. Depends? This was what she had been waiting for her entire life! It wouldn't depend on anything. But at the same time she also knew it to be true. Yes, she had a duty to her district. But she also had a duty to her family.

"Well- okay. But Ivy, everyone will know." Ivy nodded glumly. She knew. But at the same time she didn't. Who knew what was coming? But as quickly as the meeting had started it was over. Ivy hitched her duffel back over her shoulder and walked out of the room and down the drive. In the distance she could see Lime walking off with his friends. As she turned she saw Harquinne looking at her, head tilted slightly to the side. Ivy's head snapped back around as she heard the crunch of gravel. It was only Mrs Fletcher walking with Scipios, her dog. Ivy pulled the sagging bag closer and kept walking the familiar route. She rounded into her street and glanced sideways at the three familiar figures crouched by the fountain out front of her house.

"Hi!" Livia waved excitedly. "Cato said that you had been asked by the academy!" Cato scowled.

"Can't believe it. Who does this Lime guy think he is? I should've been picked. Me." Livia tried to comfort him but he pushed her away angrily.

"Don't worry." Milia's voice was a smooth as honey, but dripping with acid. The sharp tongued girl had been using her wits to get through the Academy for years. "Me and Livia weren't picked either."

That made Cato scowl harder.

"You were on crutches they day we were assessed and Livia is only there because her parents pay." Livia looked hurt by the comment but said nothing. She glanced pleadingly at Ivy, but she, not wanting to be caught up in another quarrel let them be. She sidled part the fountain and let herself in. Nero sat at the foot of the steps playing with his figurines. His voice changed pitches as he acted out the different scenes. Behind him Priscilla was rolling her eyes as she read.

"You're 13!" She whacked him with the book. "Just stop!" She looked up and noticed Ivy. Her tone changed - it seemed almost more manipulative in a way.

"So- Caro told us. Is it true?" Ivy ignored her sister and picked her way down to the kitchen where Octavian and Lucius were seated with her parents.

"Ivy!" Her mother called.

"Is it true?" Her father, Atticus boomed across the room, stopping what ever conversation Octavian and Lucius had been having.

"Yeah." Ivy mumbled as as she slid into a seat. Atticus launched off into a discussion about family pride as the twins restarted their own conversation. Eventually Ivy was left looking to her mother, Argentina for help.

Argentina seemed to ignore Ivy, busying herself as she slid trays into the oven. Ivy looked around at her family and then thought back to her earlier thoughts. Would she really sacrifice twelve years of training at the Academy for them? She wasn't so sure any more...

* * *

 **I changed it a little bit because 200 hundred years of Hunger Games 199 victors, don't you think there will be a thirteen year old that won? If anyone has any District 6, or 8 tributes please submit them, I edited my profile and there's a list of tributes. District 3 will be quick or so I'm told.**


	9. District 3

District 3 Intro - Elijah RoseMarrie

"Elijah?" Amiti ran his hands over his brother's face, caressing the familiar curves. "I'll - um - not see you tonight. But you will come home, right? You won't get reaped?" His milky eyes were obscured by a shock of blonde hair, common to his family.

"Don't worry. I'll be back." Promised Elijah. "And you're coming too. After school I'll come back and get you and we can go down together." Amitis seemed to relax in his chair and his hands slumped down by his sides. Elijah drew a blanket over his brother's knees, making sure that the fabric didn't catch in the wheels.

"Thanks." Smiled Amitis.

"You're welcome." Replied Elijah. "I'm going now, but Mum is in the kitchen feeding Elsa." Amitis nodded fully and Elijah slipped out the door. Looking at his watch he started to sprint. Making sure Amitis was okay had taken longer than he had expected. He had two minutes to get to school. Being late was not an option. He raced around the corner and hurtled through the school gates. He stopped just outside his class, pausing only to smooth down his dirty blonde curls and put his bag away. Elijah pushed the door inwards and sidled down into his chair. Professor Judris was still at his desk, the role undone on his desk. He had made it. The bell rang and Elijah breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his perfect record still stood. He glanced sideways at Pexey's empty desk. Any second now his best friend would come stumbling in... Pexey appeared in the doorway, panting hard with sweat dripping down her neck, soaking her shirt.

"Late again Miss Killjon." Professor Judris raised an eyebrow at Pexey.

"Sorry sir." She murmured. Elijah couldn't help but feel bad for his friend as she slumped, defeated, in her seat.

"That's number four Elijah. I still have three terms of 9th left and I can only be late one more time." She groaned softly. "I'm a goner." Elijah hated seeing her like this. Even if what she was saying was true, he still wanted to comfort her.

"Don't worry Pex. I'll come over to you're house in the morning early and we can get to school on time together." He promised once more.

"That'd be great Eli. But what if we're late. You're only here on scholarship... your record! You can't be late Eli. You can't risk it for me." Elijah opened his mouth to reply but Professor Judris had already started the role. The class was silent, as if a blanket had fallen over them, blocking out the noise. But everyone knew that from the role to dismissal talking out of turn was a dangerous act to commit. The day continued on in this way. The consistent pattern of lectures, questions and answers paused only for the single meal at noon. As the classes continued on Elijah felt his hands grow sweaty and clammy. The Reaping was at 5. School was finishing early because of it. I won't get reaped. He had promised. I'll be there to get you to school on time. He had promised. It was such a fragile word. "I promise I'll make you proud." He had promised his parents. "I'll never leave you." He had promised Amitis. "I'll be there every step of the way." He had promised Elsa. All these promises. And he wasn't even sure he could keep one. With Amitis blind, he had had to take out so much tesserae just to keep the family going. But as the day passed on it wasn't just Elijah who was getting worried. Almost every question was answered with a slight delay or even answered incorrectly. The classroom was hot and unbearable, the windows closed and sealed. Elijah found himself glancing up at the clock, hoping each time he did it the hand would be getting slightly closer to the twelve. The slow minutes were torture as the clock swing it's way round...

"Class dismissed." Elijah shot up from his desk.

"See you Pex!" He called over his shoulder. Pexey waved back halfheartedly. The next tome they were to see each other wouldn't be at school. Elijah hitched his bag up on his shoulders and walked home, his footfalls echoing in the empty street. Elijah stopped in front of the door and rapped on it quick succession.

"Amitis, it's Elijah." He called.

"You promise?" Amitis asked.

"I promise."

* * *

Agnes "Aggie" Stuart

"Good morning, Christina!" Agnes shook off her bag and sat down next to her friend. Christina's matted red hair fell heavily across her face, but Agnes could still see the traces of tears running down her cheeks.

"It's been a year." Christina choked, looking away. "It's been a year since she- she-" She stopped. "Oh I just can't Aggie." Christina's cheeks ran wet with fresh tears. Agnes wrapped her arms around Christine.

"But it's also been a year since we became acquaintances. Isn't it?" Christina sniffed quietly. The tears had stopped now. Agnes stood, still gripping firmly onto Christina's arm.

"C'mon. I know you don't want to but we have to. We are meeting Jordan by the park remember?"

"I don't want to." Christine brushed her hair with he fingers, further obscuring her pale, freckled face.

"It's only half a day Christina. Please." Agnes reached down and picked up Christina's bag from where it lay in the mud. She brushed it the dirt of quickly and handed it to Christina.

"Please." Agnes repeated. Christina looked up at Agnes, her red rimmed eyes seeming to soften as she looked up at her friend.

"Ok." Christina mumbled. She stood up, clutching her bag with shaking fingers. Agnes led her by the hand down the street.

"Jordan has gone." Remarked Agnes. "We must be really late."

"Or maybe he's late. We've still got thirty minutes until school starts." Christina's voice was still cracked with grief over the memory of her sister, but Agnes could tell she was trying. Agnes smiled and pulled Christina into The Generator.

"We'll wait for Jordan here." Agnes decided. She called over a waiter and Mrs Froxen arrived, her hair a mess of flour and cocoa.

"What would you like dears?"

"The usual," Agnes turned to Christine, "You?"

"The same." Christina was tearing up again. Mrs Froxen gasped at Christina's tear streaked face.

"Oh dear. I forget darlin. Drinks on me." She enveloped the crying girl in her apron.

'Sister used to work here.' She mouthed to Agnes across the table. Agnes face palmed mentally. Of course! It had taken almost half a year before Christina had even taken a step over The Generator threshold. And now she wouldn't ever again. Not after this. Agnes found herself tearing up too.

When her classmate Joanna had been Reaped and killed in the Bloodbath, Agnes had tried so hard to cheer up her older sister Christina. It had taken ages for Christina to be laughing freely again, and now it was if Agnes had put a knife to her own work, a carpet slowly unravelling.

"Hey guys!" Jordan called. He slumped down at the table, his smile fading as he saw Christina hidden in the folds of Mrs Froxen's apron.

"Oh no. Jo-" He stopped himself, but even that little slip up was enough to set Christina off again.

"Chrissie, I'm so sorry." He pleaded but Christina refused to look up. Pushing back her chair, she ran into the bathroom, the door swinging behind her. Agnes made to get up but Mrs Froxen pushed her back down.

"Friends are great sweetie, but sometimes the only person who can truly help them give up the grief, is themselves."

* * *

 **I said soon but I received it like a few hours ago because FlyingHamburgerRider has been busy and so have I, I can't promise you anything of when the next chapter is up. I did sprained my wrist and it's quite difficult to do stuff especially typing right now. I'll be pming some people, so expect a pm in 3 weeks or less because I get sidetracked but I don't have to worry about a few.**

 **review, I always smile when I get an email saying a review posted on Randomize: 200th annual Hunger Games or whatever. There's no limit to how many you could reaped but the career districts are closed unless I get one more but I'll most likely write it. I still need tributes mostly from 5-8 right now, look on my profile to see what is open.**

 **Update: I received it sooner then I realized, I received it last night and I was getting ready for bed so I didn't had time to. My wrist is better (I wish I could predict the future) so I'm brace free now or until I agitate it again. I have 1 more person to receive from FHR than we will be in District 4, yay.**


	10. Telle Versey

**District 3- Telle Versey**

"Xavier, a B. Try harder next time." Professor Morgan moved along the line of texts. Edging along painstakingly slow as he handed out the results. Telle's hands gripped at the corner of her desk, ignoring the pain in her fingers as splinters dug into her skin. An A would be ok. She thought. But I need an A+. Badly. I can't go home with just an A.

Thoughts ran through her head, the same ones repeating on an endless cycle for every test day, every report day, every day.

I bet Father never got anything below and A+ in his life. She thought. That's why he's always so unimpressed.

Professor Morgan was slowly moving up the aisle now.

"Lilippa, a B+. Oh look, you're improving." He drawled. The red splashed page fell to the ground softly. And then he was by Telle's desk.

Professor Morgan was old and grey. He had weak sideburns and a balding head. Usually his face was fixed in a disappointed sort of scowl, but right now it seemed almost neutral.

"Been a while since I've handed out one of these." He mused. "Would've been to Fin in his graduation year." Telle sighed softly. She could get the highest marks in her class year upon year, and still fall second to her father's legacy.

"A++." Professor Morgan placed the sheet down on Telle's desk, where she gripped it with shaking hands, scanning for even the slightest of mistakes. If I could just make it better. She thought. I bet Father has never gotten a A+++. Her hope suddenly died. I bet the grade doesn't even exist. Telle didn't even get up from her seat when the bell went. She just sat there as the streams of students ran out towards their homes. Intent on getting ready for the Reaping.

The Reaping. Father hasn't ever won a Hunger Games… She stopped. She was being stupid. She wouldn't even make it past the Bloodbath.

But maybe it was better to die in the light than to live in the shadows.

* * *

 **I know the chapter was short but FHR lost muse and this is the result. I received it that way. So next chapter is District 4 and than District 5 I believe as I think it has at least a girl and a boy. I received a few days ago but was to lazy to put it up. Next update will be 2-3 weeks.**


	11. District 4

District 4: Diego Barbel

"Diego!" Leila's voice echoed up the stairs, the high pitch of it making him cringe.

"Comin." Diego called back.

Diego was already dressed and ready. He had been for the last few hours. Per usual he had gone through some exercises, all the slow breathing ones that the Academy didn't approve of. Diego hated doing the exercises but he knew that if he didn't go through them every day his lungs would fail miserably fast.

Diego slouched out of his room, lanky legs bounding quickly down the stairs. Jack was already at the table sipping quietly on large mug of coffee. He was reading a section of The Daily Hook, staring at the stats on the latest mussel hauls.

"Hey Dad." Diego sat down at the table as Leila positioned a plate of flake before him. Diego reached out for a piece but his hand was slapped away as his mother pressed a fork into his grip. Diego scowled but went with it. He did what he could to please these people, they had taken him in after he had been orphaned at four, growing to consider Diego has their son.

Leila had tried and failed several times to produce a baby before they had adopted Diego. She was an absolute neat freak with her carefully folded sheets and scrubbed floors. But as much as Diego hated her neat ways, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her as she sat down on her bed, staring wistfully at the unused baby sized pajamas.

But as much as Diego loved Leila, he had always felt closer to Jack. It had been him who had laughed and tickled his stomach in the early days. Jack had always been there as someone to lean on or someone to hold your hand. Diego hadn't held anyones hand for a very long time, but Jack still offered out his, not because he thought Diego was going to take it in his grasp, but because he wanted Diego to know that he was there.

Diego shovelled down the flake with quick, measured bites, eager to get out the door. He slung his satchel over his shoulder and waved his parents goodbye as he ran out the door.

It was Sunday, so the Academy was closed. For the first few years Sunday had been a day to rest from the intensity of the training, but then Jack had signed Diego up to a fishing squad, knowing Diego would love it. Mostly Diego did, though there were sometimes he would love to push his supervisor overboard.

He loped down the pier to the boat at the very end. He swung himself onto the the ladder, hearing movements onboard as the ladder swung with a crack against the hull. Sirene was already there, staring off to the distance, leaving Diego staring at the back of her blonde head.

Diego was older than Sirene by a year, a fact that made having her as a supervisor even worse. Diego took forever to warm up to people, but a only a few minutes to distrust them entirely, and it had barely taken a moment for him to immediately dislike Sirene. He set down his satchel on his bench and waited slowly for the other members to trickle in, ready to get the trip over with.

But something in Sirene's posture didn't seem quite right. It wasn't the leering, commanding stature he was used to. There was something - defeated - about her stance. Diego brushed the thought aside as more members came up the rope. It was nothing.

* * *

District 4: Sirene Hook

Her alarm blared bright red, lighting up the room in a faint glow. Sirene reached out a slender arm to switch it off as she hopped out of bed. Outside her window, dawn was just breaking, slender wisps of sunshine curling up from the horizon.

Sirene tugged on an a tight fitting singlet and donned some pants as she readied herself for training. She pushed her feet into combat boots and padded down the hall.

The kitchen was already lit when she walked in, the table set with a ready made meal of eggs and bacon. Sirene slumped down in the seat and dug in, scarfing down the the eggs in a rush. Piper and Sandy Hook were seated at the opposite end of the table, black rings circling tired eyes.  
"Did you like it?" Sandy leaned forward across the table, gesturing to the empty platter.

"Going to training." Sirene darted off down the hall, not even pausing to wave as she left the house.

The street outside was deserted, everyone still sleeping. A mess of houses and shelters lined the street, the simple design common to this poorer area of the city.

Sirene started with a light jog through the dim streets, slowing up as she reached started to see the buildings start to rise in size. She tugged a hood over her head, obscuring her face from view as she resumed her journey at a brisk walk.

Sirene followed the pavement upwards to a towering mansion, the pillars licked with golden designs of fish leaping. A valet was stationed by the door, straightening up quickly as he saw Sirene approach.

"Upstairs, ma'am." The valet pointed towards the familiar staircase to the side of the mansion's entrance. Sirene pushed her hood back and flattened her hair as she made her way up the stairs to the training room.

She didn't hesitate as she pushed the door inwards on its hinges, stepping nimbly into a circular room, the walls adorned with an extensive assortment of weapons and weights.

Reed lay sprawled on top of the vault, listening lazily to Sebastian's lecture on balance points.

Ah, good." Sebastian nodded curtly to Sirene. "You're here. Normal warm up please."

Sirene started on her laps, bounding easily on muscled legs. Reed trailed a few metres behind her, breathing heavily as he tried to catch up.

After laps it was stretches, Sirene resisting the urge to laugh loudly as Reed strained his fingers towards his toes. Sebastian guided them through the exercises, calling out instructions as he set up practice dummies along the back wall.  
"Are you volunteering?" Sirene maneuvered herself into middle splits, twisting her body towards Reed as she waited for an answer.

Her friend looked uncomfortable with the question, his limbs tensing up and his cheeks tinted with red.

"Reed." Sirene demanded, "Answer me."

Reed looked away.

"Get out, just-" His voice shook, "Get out!"

"Reed!" Sirene gasped as she felt Sebastian's hand weigh down onto her shoulder.

"You heard the master," Sebastian ordered, "Leave now or I'll call the guards in."

Sirene's legs buckled as she got to her feet.

She felt a pain in her chest unlike anything she had ever previously experienced, a cracked sensation echoing from somewhere in her ribs.

She ran from the room, stumbling forward with her hands covering red rimmed eyes.

"Do you need help with anything ma'am?" The valet stepped forward to intercept Sirene, but she darted past with quick steps.

When she arrived at the at the pier it was still mostly empty. Only a few boys were running around the docks, trying to get off on the first wave. They were cutting it very close, the tide already starting retreat.

Sirene found the ship she commanded at the very edge of the row, she had organized all the equipment last night, as per usual. Her parents couldn't afford a boat, just another way they failed, so Sirene was forced to take out a District boat. Her parents couldn't afford the rent either, but with Sirene's reputation as a fisherman she was allocated a fishing group to supervise and take out daily.

She climbed up the ladder and hauled herself up onto the deck drunkenly. Under a loose board she withdrew a packet of biscuits, pulling at the wrapper and piling them into her mouth.

It was there, as she sat alone on the deck, that she finally let her tears fall.

Cleo Rivera - District 4 Female

"Blake's here!" Kai called.

"Coming!" Cleo tucked her bookmark in and set the book beside her on the rafter. She braced her hands against the woods and dropped down.

"Dad would kill you if he saw you do that." Kai was lounging on the living room chair, his muscled arms draped across the armrests. Kai and Cleo could very well be twins, with their black hair and brown hair. The only real difference was Kai's hulking height, at 5'11 he had outgrown his father little way past his 15th birthday.

"Yeah, he would if he was here. But he is always out on his fishing trips." Cleo scowled. "And Kai - I'm 17. You don't need to look after me. You can go home to Victor Village. You know Mai is expecting your first baby soon."

"That's not why I come Cleo. Ever since Mai won her game and we moved into the house I never see you anymore. Anyway, Blake's waiting."

"You're right." Cleo shrugged on her jacket. "I should be going. But tonight I'll come and visit you. The baby is expected any day now. Mai won the Games - I'm pretty sure she can do some serious damage if you were to miss the birth."

"You're right." Kai chuckled and got up from his seat. "But you will come? You can get ready for the Reaping at our place and then we can walk down together. Mai's coming in a wheelchair."

"I promise, but Blake's probably already fallen asleep waiting for me out there." Cleo hurried to the door and slipped out.  
"What took you so long?" Blake was leaning against the fence, tousled blonde hair blowing softly in the wind.

"It doesn't matter." Cleo led Blake out onto the street, retracing the the familiar track down to the Academy.

"Were you doing your hair?" Blake teased. "For me? You didn't have too." Cleo didn't laugh but she didn't slap him either, something she would've done to any other idiot who could've made that comment. Blake was Cleo's only friend, and no one was more surprised than Cleo herself. Blake was just like Kai. Which meant bubbly, loveable, trusting. Basically everything Cleo wasn't. But Cleo was still glad for his company. At the very start she and Blake had despised each other. Cleo would work never ending hours in the gym, but still fall second behind the district's Golden Boy. But if the coaches were blind, the students sure weren't. Blake was the image of the perfect warrior, but Cleo was the one with skills. Sure Blake was great at the trident, but over the years even Blake had developed a grudging respect. And over time that respect had developed into a friendship.

Cleo had never had a real friend before Blake. She was lucky to even have one with her highly antisocial personality. At least that was what she told herself each time she found herself wondering if Blake and her could ever be something more…

Cleo rubbed her eyes.

"C'mon Blake. Practice starts in five." She tugged Blake forward.

"Cleo, what is with the rush? We don't have to run to get there on time." Blake pulled Cleo back.

"I-I can't be late." Cleo's hand slipped out of Blake's. Her legs wobbled as she climbed the stairs. She had to get away from Blake. He couldn't know what thoughts were running through her head. No. Feelings like that would only slow her down.

* * *

 **I'm not going to write much but I can't stress this enough, reviews are what makes your tribute(s) last longer. Thanks FHR for the chapter and finishing all 4 districts quickly**


	12. District 5

Twyla Zahayvin (16), District 5

The Darkness acted as shield.

Twyla often found herself alone in her attic. It was the only place she felt safe from the world and the pain it brought.  
Today, the pain she was hiding from was being delivered by her stepmother. Twyla could usually count on her father to mediate some of her attacks, but today he was away at work. The small amount of dirt she had tracked on the floor coming home from school had earned Twyla the usual slap and following torrent of verbal abuse.

Twyla barely felt any of it anymore, but she still sought out the solitude of her attic.  
She chuckled to herself as she imagined her dumpy stepmother attempting to fit through the tiny trapdoor, something that she with her petite frame sometimes struggled with.

Twyla tried to remember the last time she had spent talked with someone other than her stepmother to exchange horrid remarks, or her father, to mumble yes or no. It must have been three years ago, before the fire.

The fire had come quickly, chewing up her house with abandon, leaving its wake a pile of ashes and Twyla's entire world. That was the day her stepbrother Ronnie had died. Ronnie had been Twyla's rock, always protecting her from his horrid mother, always asking how her day was or spending the time to help her with homework. All the way to his last day Ronnie had been kind. When he died, Twyla had nobody to protect her, and nobody to confide in.

As Twyla had been watching her house burn down, her stepmother committed the act that verified her true wickedness. Short moments after watching her son died, she attempted to murder her stepdaughter, pushing her into the hot flames.

Twyla instinctively moved her hand to the back of her neck, tracing the dinner plate sized burn scar.

That day had left a permanent mark on Twyla, physically and mentally. She was no longer the sweet innocent girl that she used to be, but neither was she completely cold and dark. People meeting her for the first time may be put off by her dark exterior, but inside is a caring, decent individual.  
But she could never let people in. She could never let her pain effect another innocent person.

She stared back into the dark, twiddling the end of her hair, died red as the flames that had consumed her home, longing for the moment when she could finally be truly alone, away from her stepmother and the pain of her world.

* * *

Brandon Alderwood (17), District 5

Stop moving, you're going to wrinkle it!"

Brandon froze in place, staring intently into the mirror set in front him. He flicked his gaze up to watch his girlfriend brush down his gray suit with precise measured strokes. He never understood the necessity of dressing up for the reaping, but if it made Amelia happy he'd sit here until every wrinkle was smoothed out.

Amelia clicked her tongue, satisfied with her job. "Stand up and give me a look".

Brandon got up slowly from the wooden chair and allowed an inspection. His curly blonde hair was messed with for a minute or two before Amelia spun him around and stared into his eyes. He gave her tentative smile, staring into her eyes until she returns it with a smile of her own.

"Perfect", she says, "now head downstairs while I get myself ready".  
Amelia closes the door quickly, sending Brandon into the hallway of her top floor home. Brandon turns around and descends the carpeted stairs into her kitchen one by one. The long wooden table is set for two, a jug of orange juice placed in the middle of the table.

The sight of the empty room, filled with modern devices and staples, never failed to catch him off guard. Amelia came from a wealthy family, probably one of the richest in District 5. Brandon on the other hand, had grown up in a group home with hundreds of other orphaned children. His time there had made him tough, and he had become used to fighting for every scrap. Before he met Amelia, he had never witnessed such abundance of, well, of anything really.

Brandon pulled up a chair and at the table and poured himself a glass of orange juice. Others would be spending reaping morning with their friends, family or loved ones, he thought. He had nobody but Amelia. Amelia the other hand had all three those things, but she had instead chosen to spend time with him. The very thought gave him a feeling of warmth. Who needed friends when you had someone like Amelia? Anyways, friends would only use you for their own gain. Or at least they had in the home.

Only his strength and ruthless logic had kept the others from attempting to use him. He had become aware of the lengths to which the other orphans would go to crawl their way to the top of the ladder, and he had used their methods against them, simply making any who challenged him disappear, figuratively. Then when they were all gone, he had held the top position for the work program and was sent to the power plant. And then he had met Amelia.

And now he waited for her dutifully, no longer needing to fight for his food, simply plucking it from the fridge or oven. Brandon sighed. Days like these, just him and Amelia, were what he had always been fighting for, he just hadn't known it. The sound of the door opening upstairs broke him from his stupor, and he straightened himself in the chair. Hopefully both he and Amelia would be safe from the reaping, and they would be able to enjoy many more days like this.

* * *

 **I can not stress this enough, reviews is how much your tribute survives (I know I put it in singular form, one can live). I do got a new one, how can I pass the offer up so now I have two well three if you count me. Ignore that previous message if you want, I need like 2 minutes now, so leave me a review, thank you platypus27 for writing the chapter**


	13. Author's note

**I'm sorry of the no recent chapters for this story, don't worry I'm not abandoning it. I have been super busy with school, homework and I'm really stressed right now. I can't seem to write anything especially for English ugh. Let's write a story and add a book project along with an hour long of math homework. This move stressed me out a lot and I would post a chapter up in a heartbeat but I can't drag my body away from Google Docs. Yes, I'm rambling. Hopefully, keep your fingers crossed it would be up on the 14th which ugh I'm so excited for as it is my birthday if not the following weekend. I am doing District 7 (I'm not going in order). The Fire Blossom and platypus27 are really busy so it might be a while like I am. Still submit tributes from 6-12 if you want.**

* * *

Violetta had big plans for this year's games. She could hear her snivelling, coward's boyfriend crying into a pillow as she denied him for wanting tea. Doesn't the old fool realizes she abhor anything that had caffeine in it? Ugh, it was useless. There was no way she could get this done especially from the provoking, ear bleeding sound that made Violetta want to claw her eyes out like a raven eating its prey. She had marvellous plans for this games and maybe she should kill her boyfriend at this rate.

* * *

 **Yes I know short but the only way to get a chapter up without it being illegal. So hopefully the next district will be up soon. Reviews are nice. SYOT still open so yeah.**


	14. District 7

**I don't care how long this is going to be, I'm waiting for at least a chapter from either FireBlossom (aka JessicaEmerson) or Platypus27 but both are busy and I have been focusing on my other stories such as Never Expected This which I finished now For Eternity and Burn both deals with first person. I'm not going to be biased in these games your tribute either die or win simple as that. My christmas gift to you even though it should have been birthday but Christmas is closer.**

 **Trigger Warnings: Suicidal thoughts in Blue's part**

* * *

 **Juniper Violet (15) District 7**

Juniper danced along with the tempo that kept her on time that made dancing somewhat hard to get it right with all the complicated dance moves she'd came up with. Juniper imagined herself wearing a gold leotard with her skin painted with matching glitter that made seem more elegant with her chocolate skin.

It always have been Juniper's endeavor she had for most of her life as she wanted to be someone famous that could dance very majestically and elegantly to which she could earn lots of money to help out with her family's problems that Juniper shouldn't know about when her family tries to keep hush-hush about but secrets and Juniper always find a way to find out.

"Juniper, you should take a break," her mom sighed causing Juniper to tumble from the interruption her mom created.

"Mom, I can't… I have to do this," Juniper murmured.

"You're working too much!" her mom cried out. "You're fifteen."

"So… I'm the only one earning more money than both of you as people like to see me dance and gives me donations to which I give it to you and dad as we can't afford the rent as it get higher, Mom," Juniper countered.

Juniper stood up, closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she twirled trying to get a certain step correctly of the one she previously missed from her last shown which she abhorred missing one of the steps. Dancing was Juniper's life, it brought happiness to her but for taking a rest was practically unheard of when it came to dancing.

Juniper knew she was making herself work harder but it didn't matter. Juniper had to take care of her family because who would ever help her family out?

Juniper had a gift and she was going to use that to help her family out even if the job didn't exactly pay much as District 7 was one of the poor districts.

 **Rosa Ray (14) District 7**

Rosa held her cigarette in her hand as people walked by her, sometimes fawning over the masterpiece she created but none actually stopping by to cherish the work she created. A fourteen year old exceptionally good at art was practically unheard of. Normally, Rosa wouldn't dare to smoke on an art show like this but she needed to do something besides looking at the citizens walking past her exhibat with their children screaming wanting to come see the art she created.

This time, she drew a person slaying a dragon with her vivid details and precise work that made her earn some food or money in the process which she didn't mind. All she wanted to have some friends, but the children's parents prohibited them from going besides Alice. Alice gave her stolen food whenever she came buy to which Rosa always gave away a few of her paintings to her since she adored them.

"I like your painting," a small boy commented. His round eyes looked at her with dimples quite noticeable the way he smiled as he looked at her.

"Thanks. I have a small portrait of it, if you want one," Rosa replied back, keeping her tone neutral as she focused on the little boy who couldn't be more than five years old, too young to have a worry in the world.

"Mom, could I have one?" The boy asked his mom as she came up to her with a beaming smile.

"Dear money is tight right now so we can't afford it," his mother told him in a stern voice which Rosa hid her dismay. This was usual for visitors to do so. Her paintings were sometimes focus on the childhood stories she was often told to by her mother during her childhood days, escaping the stories of her father as a cheater but Rosa never questioned about him. She always referred to him as a "cheater" leaving her mom as a single parent to care for her two kids.

"Sorry," the boy cried out which Rosa crack a small smile at him. Oh well, maybe next time someone could buy some of her paintings and give her money or food in the process.

 **Vivian "Vivvy" Willow (16) District 7**

"Here, try this," Her best friend, Rosie said handing her an outfit which Vivian considers girly. It wasn't like she loved wearing girly clothes but she obliged and glared at her outfit when she put it on.

"Doesn't that look nice on you?" Rosie commented in almost a sweet way which almost made Vivian gag when she looked at her reflection.

The dress reached to her legs with frilly, bell-shaped sleeves which Vivian thought it was over the top though. It was kinda tight on her and it brought out her curves which she abhorred. She liked wearing her baggy clothes to hide her beauty and act like one of the guys.

"Oh it's lovely," Vivian said with sarcasm lacing her tone.

Rosie beamed and tried to apply mascara on her eyelashes which Vivvy carefully swat it away in annoyance as it was a complete waste of time though. Vivvy wasn't going to change her look even though Rosie tried to but Vivvy knew it wasn't going to succeed. She didn't had any sisters and was the woman in the family as her brothers took care of her since she was ten after their parents died.

"No, mascara," Vivvy whined.

"But it will make you look more beautiful," Rosie pouted to which Vivvy sighed. She hated when Rosie used this tone on her every time she voiced her opinions.

"Alright."

Rosie applied mascara to Vivvy's eyelashes and she hated how she looked. She looked to girly for her taste and she hated wearing those girl clothes. Perhaps it was the result of the lack of females in her life that made it her way. This outfit couldn't help her do much but sit down and fawn. It wasn't good for playing sports nor being in the woods.

 **Blue Fametale (15), District 7**

Blue hid from his father out of cowardice as he didn't want to get beat up today by him even though he should have been protecting his mom from him but there was some things he couldn't change. Their family acted like a perfect family while his father drank until he was drunk when they were indoors. He hated this way.

Well not a perfect little family as if it was normal to have a father that worked for the Capitol but everyone in the middle class hated him and gets more bruises from the fights that usually broke out. He spotted a few pills nearby from his hiding spot in his room and decided if he wanted to kill himself.

Blue sometimes was suicidal but was a chicken to try and take his own life if he was being candid though. He grew tired of protecting his mother and getting into fights a lot to which he was just sick of tired of it all.

He knew he shouldn't though but no one was here to protect and tell him not to kill himself but it he doubted his parents would care for him. Both of his parents drink but with his mother's case was different. She drank to heal but that was kinda an idiotic excuse if you asked Blue.

He could hear those thumping footsteps nearby getting louder and louder which Blue had a decision to make.

Kill himself or stay alive for a little bit longer?

* * *

 **I'm not going in order so don't worry it just depends on what I want to do and what chapters I get. This was kinda challenging as I had to make up for Rosa and Juniper even though she's my tribute. Merry Christmas or happy holidays.**


	15. District 12

Jaycee Farmark, District 12, Age 17

Jaycee crept out of bed, throwing her old robe over her pajamas. The sun was rising, casting beautiful yellows and reds over the sky, not hidden by the grime of coal dust by the time miners leave at sunset, making it look relatively dustier, not as beautiful and clear as sunrise. Jaycee took a minute to admire the view from her window. Despite her happiness, it was overshadowed by the dark shadows of today's reaping. Jaycee inhaled the air and forced herself to calm down, to think about the adventure at hand. She wore her relatively old boots and left the house as quietly as possible. Creeping into the small alley a few blocks away from her rather run-down house. Sneaking in, her best-friend Dill Berpath grinned at her, "You're late." "Just admiring the sunrise," Jaycee replied, happiness obviously lacing her voice. "Let's get started then," Dill declared as Jaycee fell in track to help him with their ropes.

It took several more hours to adjust the ropes properly, in order to climb this alley's walls, which they chose solely for the fact that it was in front of the woods. No one could ever enter the forest, surrounded by high electric fences, impossible to penetrate. All the months, they tried to find an in and they believed that climbing that wall would not lead them in, but to offer them a pretty and clear view which might help them to further get in. The rope being tied at places, gave them places to hook in their hands and legs.

Dill smiled at her, "You ready? We've been planning this for weeks!"

Jaycee nodded excitedly. Hooking her first leg in, she carefully climbed up, hooking and unhooking her legs through the knots. She reached the top, thankful that it was still rather early, especially on Reaping Day for people to start going out. Many tend to sleep in, enjoying the extra sleep since there were no shops to open, no mining shifts to get to, so hardly anyone roamed the streets. Securing herself to the top, she sat, enjoying the view in front of her. Lush trees overgrown, one above the other, wild strawberry and blueberry hedges dotting the forest in random areas, in the clear, not overgrown areas, Jaycee could easily see some mint leaves and some parsnip here and there. It was a lulling silence till Dill interrupted the soundless atmosphere with his low voice, "I've got to head home to help Mom with the baby. You know how fussy he can be." Jaycee nodded and not long after Dill left, she headed down and concealed the ropes with some talc she managed to get from a merchant. She headed home.../

At home, buzz and frantic activity met Jaycee. Her mother was trying to whip up some pancakes, a delicacy saved only for special occasions. Her 10-year-brother Waln was sitting in front of a table in what seemed to be a new white shirt and smart black pants. Jaycee was almost stunned. The last time they had any new clothes wasn't very long ago and they made a point of not wasting too much fabric,and only getting clothes on some special occasion. Her mother, turned momentarily and told her, "Jaycee, your dad's at his workshop, waiting for you."

Jaycee nodded and headed down the rickety stairs to head to her father's small workshop, compacted behind the clothing shop. She entered and smiled, "Mom told me you wanted me." Her dad's eyes were glinting as he beckoned her to come closer. In his hands she noticed was a gentle teal blue dress. "It is for you," she heard her father's gentle voice say.

She took it, and saw it cascade down to reveal a knee-high teal dress with a black ribbon tied around the waist. "Thank you, Dad." She leapt up to him, and hugged him.

He gave a giddy smile,"Don't get the dress all crumpled now, Jaycee." She kissed her dad and headed up to her bedroom. Wearing her dress, she carefully brushed through her blonde wavy hair. She went to the kitchen, eager for some pancakes. She ate, trying to keep a positive outlook. The odds were certainly in her favour.

* * *

Raven Well, District 12, Age 12

Raven Well was up early, his father's old and too large apron strewn on his body loosely,helping his sister with the morning baking. His older brother,Thistle, was rolling the dough while he was instructed to make some more for some cookies. Carefully weighing the flour, he realized he was a hundred grammes too short. Looking around, he realized he could make some of the sweet dough he saw his father make. He wasn't sure how it was made but he noticed that his father just put some sugar. Instead of getting some more flour from the pantry which was too heavy for him to carry. He took some of the powdered sugar and quickly put what was in the containor, around sixty grammes. Taking some baking powder, he filled the bowl with the remaining forty grammes with it. He was sure it would make something good. Quickly mixing with the butter and the egg yolks, it wasn't long before he made the yellowy substance, the dough. Taking it, he started rolling it. He did have some trouble but decided that how the new recipe worked. Making it into some cookies, he threw them in the oven as Thistle started working with the dough. "There is no more flour here, did you use it up?"

He covered it easily, "Used it all up for the cookie dough."

Thistle nodded and replied, "I'm heading to the pantry for some more. You man the bread and the cookies."

Raven nodded. He walked swiftly to the ovens, and watched it. Checking on the bread, he decided it was too raw and could use some more baking time. Heading to the cookies, he was surprised at what he saw. The dough seemed disgustingly grainy and it had risen up far too much, causing some of them to pop. Without thinking of the beating he'll later get, he yelled, "Thistle! Come! Quick!"

He heard many footsteps. First to arrive was Thistle, he apron covered in flour. Next to come was his father, yawning and looking incredulously at him, he sternly scolded, "What's will all the yelling? I was sleeping."

Raven now realized the mistake he made in yelling. His father came closer to the ovens and saw the cookies. "What in damn hell is that?"

"I w-was just t-trying to m-make some sugary d-dough," stuttered Raven.

His father got angry as he screamed, "Sugary dough? SUGARY DOUGH? No one EVER asked you to make SUGARY dough. You know, how much that will cost us!" He grabbed Raven by the waist. Ripping off the apron, he tugged up his shirt. Grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be a pan, he beat up Raven.

Raven screamed, "SORRY! I'm so sorry!"

His dad yelled, "Does sorry bring back the wasted dough? Raven didn't answer as his father let him go, leaving him too fall splat on the floor.

Raven headed to one of the only places he goes to after such a beating and that was his kindest friend, Rose. Rose was dainty but really kind and sweet, not bearing to see anyone hurt. Lying on the grass in the garden, Rose poured cold water over his sore back.

"How did it happen?" asked Rosa, a curious glint in her eye.

Raven shook his head, "I don't really want to talk about it." Rosa nodded but continued enquiring, "What did you do before that?"

Raven shook his head. It wasn't long before Flint, his best friend, came over. "Thistle told me. Harsh, Raven. Harsh." Rose smiled at Flint, "What did he do?

"Messed up some dough," Flint replied, "I don't know. Added too much sugar. Something along these lines."

Raven stood up, ignoring the ache in his back.

"What's today's adventure?" Rose looked at him, shocked, "The reaping is more than any adventure. To survive it, that is an adventure on its own."

Flint started at Raven, "No matter what circumstance, Raven seems always ready to jump on a horse and trot to a new adventure."

Raven ignoring both of them, smiled, "Who fancies some wild strawberry?"

Rose immediately stated, "Count me out."

Flint gave a wicked grin at Raven, "I sure do. From the greengrocer?"

Raven shook his head, "That is far too easy. I was thinking more like the forest." Flint raised his eyebrows, "Now, that's an adventure. Any ideas on how to get inside?" "We'll see once we get there." Thanking Rose, they headed towards the high fences.

At the high fence, Raven took no time in trying to shimmy up the fences, the very fact that it was electrocuted, slipped his mind. Not only did the electricity hurt at his legs and hands, apparently it sent an alarm to Peacekeepers. A mini-troop of them were heading towards Raven's way. Noticing them, Flint ran away, leaving the peacekeepers to pull Flint off amd carry his flaling body back to his parents.

His parents were certainly anything but happy. Raven did get another beating and no breakfast while Thistle and his parents had some fresh bread for once and some expensive honey bought from a proud bee owner, one of the legal jobs in District 12 which brings in fine money. Raven sat it out in his bedroom, wearing his brother's old shirt and quite large black pants, another hand-me-down from Thistle. Heading to the square, his father outright ignored him, his mother offered him a thin smile and a quick good luck.

Thistle was the only who took the time to hug him, wish him luck amd give him an assuring pat and a quite confident "See you after the reaping. Dad will calm down, he always does. I bet he will treat you to some bread and honey too. If not, I'll sneak it out for you."

* * *

 **I was hoping to get a chapter out today so yay. I had to cut this as I have the reaping (3/12) done which is actually prewritten though just a little crappy as it hasn't been edited much besides the annoying misspelled words it really takes me a long time to write a chapter (it will be 3 chapters than train rides). I really want to give a hug to Raven right now. Thanks The Fire Blossom for writing the chapter. Tributes belong to their respective owners.**

 **SYOT is still open, I'm still taking spots and I guess from any district and I really need a D11 male so submit.**

 **District 6, 8 or 10 should be next so long forward to that.**


	16. District 6

**Some muse and inspiration hit me like a hurricane and I have up to the Capitol for muse hopefully I could outline it before it vanishes but I'm planning to finish this story before August so that's good. I need tributes from any district I suppose.**

* * *

 **Clio 'Atlas' Tracks (16), District 6**

Ze ducked behind a few students as Ze went by, noticing Aubrey and a few of Aubrey's friends gossiping. That was what they usually do but Ze was scared of them even though Ze was Aubrey's sibling. Ze never addressed ze's self as a certain gender, having a few names of when Ze felt like it. Clio when Ze's female, Atlas when Ze's a male and whenever Ze felt agender, ze gone by Cli. It all sounded so confusing to others but they weren't really accepting of Ze's choice.

Ze was lucky enough to having very supporting parents that accepted Ze for what Ze is but Ze knew that Aubrey never accepted Ze and would make Ze's life a constant hell everyday at school which would explain why Ze was trying to hide from the group. It wasn't like school was bad perse but Ze knew not everyone would accept Ze as being genderfluid though.

Ze sometimes wished it would all stop though, Aubrey's constant bullying and making Ze's life hell and a harassing teacher that wouldn't take no for an answer which Ze tried to ask for help multiple times when the situations got out of hand.

"Hey, look isn't that your weird sister?" A voice interrupted which Ze made sure she hurried before they came over and torment Ze until Ze begged for the torment to stop.

"Yeah, let's get her," Ze heard Aubrey say to her friends.

Aubrey and Aubrey's group of friends soon came over leaving Ze trapped in their circle. How much, Ze wished someone would help her and maybe become one of Ze's friends. That was just a dream that something like that would actually happen though. No one really helped her or gave her support which often made Ze lonely even though Ze shouldn't be.

"Please, stop this," Ze begged which the bullies made no mind only doing what they normally did than leave Ze alone for hours maybe a whole day if Ze was lucky enough but it didn't help with Aubrey lived with Ze though and secretly mocks Ze at home though because their parents would throw a fit if they didn't stop their arguing though.

The bullies left her with Ze keeping Ze's head down low in not in shame and Ze found Ze a stall to which Ze could cry in. Sobs that no one would hear though.

No one cared of those fresh sobs racketeering from Ze as Ze cried alone with nobody to give a care about. Ze wished Ze had a friend that would keep Ze company and protect her from the bullies and the teacher though.

 **Tera Hill Olcain (18), District 6**

Tera turned the page of her book for school. It really wasn't what Tera was supposed to be looking at though even though it was hard to do from all the problems that were in it but at least it gave her brain something challenging to do while she silently got A's.

Tera knew she had intelligence to which people were often jealous for her intelligence; she wasn't just proficient in just book-smart also street smart as she learned the hard way for that. Tera remembered when she was a bit younger though which really what changed her especially the decrepit area her family lived as they were poor. Tera knew she could probably be a little more successful than her parents but she couldn't say that out allowed.

Her father was a Conductor which Tera often worries about him when he goes out of District though but she knew he shouldn't worry about him though. He often stayed reticent a week before he left though which Tera disliked. Her mom was a baggage handler which didn't pay much though which made Tera and her family live in this crappy neighborhood.

Tera done a few math problems that were a little challenging as she was reading ahead to get a frank idea of what it was going to be but at least it was something difficult to exercise her mind to. Tera wished that there was more challenging books out there for her to read though.

 **Zircon Stardusk (15), District 6**

Zircon doodled in his notebook, well not really doodling just creating his inventions as he liked to call them while being secretive for his half-brother's case. His brother-ZInc always wanted to see what he was which really was getting on his nerves quite a lot though.

He had a half-brother since he was two years old sharing the same mom but had a different father. Zircon was always curious of whom my father was though as he didn't know much about him though. He know that he got his coldness to others and the lack to feel any pity as mother claimed that Zircon got it from him. He never knew who his father was though. Which made him curious though.

He finished his drawing which looked silly though but it was just a simple robot that could help people with chores so it really wasn't too bad at least from Zircon's perspective.

He flipped to the back of his notebook to design something not so innocent as it was the intentions as meant to hurt or kill not help any people. He didn't want anyone to know about his creations that were both good and bad though and get in trouble for the bad creations.

The difference between the two was the good always had some minor detail that put it differently while his bad had usually lazors or something coming out something he was immensely proud of. He liked that one that was considered dangerous even though he was just filling it out more. Maybe it was Zircon's imagination getting darker though?

Zircon didn't had an answer to that question as he believed his imagination was getting darker but maybe that was just him. No one knew what he put in his notebook though; wanting to keep it hidden from prying eyes and kept it safe.

* * *

 **Happy New Year everyone. Submit tributes, it's basically first come first serve and need a few males, still able to submit females.**


	17. District 8

**Lacey Weaver (12) D8F**

Lacey didn't understand the big deal about the Reapings. She thought it would be super cool to get Reaped. Once you were Reaped, you got to live in the Capitol. The Capitol sounded super fun, just because it was new. She heard it was super high-tech, but Lacey didn't really think there could be a world better than her District. The only downside of getting Reaped seemed to be having to leave your family, since families always cried when their kids got Reaped. Still, that seemed like less of a big deal than everyone made it out to be.

"Hey! Why are you crying?" Lacey asked the twelve-year-old next to her. She seemed really scared, and she didn't get it. She figured it was something her parents didn't want her to know about. There seemed to always be more and more of those things. They said she was supposed to be innocent, but Lacey didn't understand why they had to protect her. She knew that kittens died. Nothing Earth threw at her could be worse from that.

"You... You wouldn't understand, Lacey! You don't understand anything!" the kid said to Lacey. She hissed it between sobs. Lacey figured that she didn't understand. Yelling that she didn't understand wasn't going to make her understand any more. She took a step away from the girl, because she seemed to want nothing to do with her. Lots of kids from the District did that when Lacey tried to talk to them. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but mom said it was envy. She said, "I was the prettiest kid in the District, and the other kids felt bad",but even Lacey was smart enough to know that wasn't the case.

"Our female tribute this year will be Lacey Weaver!" our escort cried out. Lacey didn't know exactly what to do. She looked at her parents, only to see her father crying. She didn't understand that at all. Dad never cried. He was always strong, and nice, and loving. Mom was crying, too. She cried sometimes at home. Lacey wasn't supposed to know about that. She said it was mayor business, but Lacey knew that the District made her cry. She couldn't guess why.

Suddenly, Lacey felt hands gripping her arms. A person in a white suit was holding onto her. She quickly recognized him as a Peacekeeper, and she could put the clues together that something was very wrong. Lacey kicked and screamed against the Peacekeeper's grip. She could hear some people laughing, which just confused her even more, making her kick and scream even more violently. She didn't want to leave Mom and Dad. She wasn't serious when she said that she wanted to leave District.

* * *

 **Yarnn Ashen (16) D8F**

Yarnn held her breath when she walked past the factory. She did that every time Yarnn went past it, even though it never did her any good. Every time she had to breathe again before she could get past all of the factories, and every time Yarnn started coughing up a storm. It was a game to Yarnn to see how long she could last before she had to breathe, and Yarnn made it farther each time, but she still ended up breathing then coughing. It seemed to her that she would be cursed forever.

Looking at the buildings ahead of her, Yarnn tried to focus on each street light she went past. She tried to ignore just how far away her house was, and she tried to ignore all of the dark patches between the lights. It seemed symbolic to her, how much she liked staying in the lights. The dark was scary, probably because it was an unknown. The light was good, because she knew everything that was in it. Yarnn pushed her thoughts on that instead of the street lights. Thoughts like that could get her mind off of the burning sensation in her lungs as they begged her to take a deep breath of the smog-filled air Yarnn was walking through.

She broke. Her body made her take a deep breath, then another, then another. It stopped at three. Then it was forcing her to fight for breath instead of fighting against it. She could feel her throat closing up. It felt like her nose was closing, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Yarnn wasn't getting enough air. She wasn't getting enough oxygen. She broke into a sprint to try and get away from the smog. Yarnn needed to avoid it. Sprinting was hard without air, but she was used to it. She did that every night, too.

Again, her lungs forced her to stop running. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her inhaler, doing everything she was supposed to do. Breathe in for five seconds. Breathe out for five seconds. Inhaler to mouth. In ten, out seven. Check breath. Sprint away. She took a glance at the counter on my inhaler and saw that she was down to three more doses before her family had to buy her another set. That didn't seem fair. Her family had to buy her another set of lungs. And it would never stop.

* * *

 **Damask Rockwell (18) D8M**

Damask looked at the rows of workers in the factory he worked at. He was standing on a balcony, lurking at his assigned position. Supervisors had the easiest jobs. At least, they had the easiest jobs physically. All they had to do was stand there and watch other people doing the physical labor and hurt anyone who tried to slack. Damask always thought that supervisors had to be the strongest mentally. Pointing out that someone was doing something they weren't supposed to be doing could get them killed. A slip of the tongue could take away a human life. To make matters worse, that could cause a domino effect. It could take out that person's family members, leaving the youngest boy in the family an orphan, without any family members. It could make that boy take on the job that was the hardest for him, because he needed the extra cash, even though he would have to constantly think about how he was tearing people away from their families just like his family was torn from him. It could tear that boy apart.

A little boy looking around himself snapped him out of his thoughts. He kept glancing up and down, oddly suspiciously. He watched as he grabbed a battery from the conveyor belt that was moving past him and slipped it into his pockets. Damask considered a reasonable line of action. Then he saw the boy look up at him, make eye contact, and start to shake. He almost cried, and he started taking the battery back out of his pocket.

Shaking his head, he shrugged at the boy. He wasn't going to tell on him. One battery was nothing. Technically, Damask was supposed to tell on anyone for anything they did wrong, but that didn't mean he was going to. He knew the full consequences of stealing, and knew that it went far beyond the culprit. One battery wasn't worth risking a human life over.

After that, it was his turn to feel guilty. He saw his supervisor looking at him, seemingly considering what to do with him. Damask was under his wing, so he could do just about anything he wanted. He could fire him. He could execute him. He could beat him. I didn't think he was going to. He was shaking his head and smiling a little bit, and he was walking over to him.

"Damask, you're not supposed to do that," Patch said to him. He shrugged.

"I'm aware of that."

"Just don't do it too often, okay?"

"I'm on it!" That was why he didn't think Patch was going to beat him, or fire him. He knew his train of thought. He was there when his parents were killed for something no more important than that battery. Damask figured Patch was one of the only good Peacekeepers, since he never got him in trouble for letting things slip. He let things slip, too. Like letting a little boy slip through the fingers of the system...

* * *

 **That was District 8 written by SilverflowerXRavenpaw (one of my new collaborators, replacing an inactive one). I need males from either 9 and 11 so submit them. What did you think of them?**


	18. District 10 with a 2

**Alkali Mori (18) D2F (Note: TWO not TEN like the rest)**

 _Thud. Bulls-eye. Thud. Bulls-eye. Thud. Bulls-eye._ Alkali absentmindedly threw knife after knife at various targets. She switched occasionally from targets to dummies to random places on the wall. She found herself always hitting her target, just like she expected to. Alkali focused on the target for two seconds, then closed her eyes and threw. _Target._ She spun herself around a bunch to get dizzy, then threw another knife. _Target_.

"Alkali, we need to talk to you," an assistant said. Alkali smiled. She knew exactly what was coming.

"Alkali, we've noticed your skills with throwing knives. We think you'd make a good addition to the Career Pack this year. Will you be volunteering?"

Smiling, Alkali nodded. She had wanted this for eight years. She had trained day and night for this for the past two thousand five hundred four days, perfecting the one skill she had until it was all she could think about. In her dreams Alkali threw knives. Alkali thought out knife-throwing formulas during school, focusing on that instead of classes. She didn't need school, anyways. She was going to volunteer whether or not she got picked. Being picked was just a bonus. "Of course I will!"

The assistant smiled more brightly. "Great! I look forward to seeing you in the Games!"

"I look forward to being in them!" Alkali shuddered once she was out of the room. She never said things like that. It was always, "I'm going to tear the Games apart," or "Nobody else stands a chance." For some reason, the assistant forced Alkali to be cheery, a mood she hadn't acted on since she joined the Academy.

 _Maybe I should try something other than throwing knives today_ , Alkali thought to herself. The thought occurred once every month, but Alkali almost never indulged it. Shelters were boring. Spears were boring. Plants were boring. Everything except throwing knives was boring, and most things weren't worth her time. Careers were sponsored plenty to get by without finding plants.

 _Just this once._ Alkali walked over the edible plant station in the Academy. She looked at all of the various plants and tried to organize them. _Red with small bumps. That's gotta be poisonous. It's red! White and round? People like white. Edible. Purple-blue? Probably poisonous. Definitely weird. Red and round? Probably just to trip us up. Edible._ Alkali slowly sorted out all the plants she had the attention span for, then called over the trainer. "How did I do?"

"You... You managed to label every single one of the incorrectly. How did you even? Everyone knows what a raspberry looks like! Aren't you a volunteer?" the trainer asked, clearly confused at Alkali's failure.

"I am the volunteer. Don't you see all of those knives in the target? Every single bulls-eye there was made by me. Different people just have different talents," Alkali spat, stalking back over to the knives. _That's more like you,_ she thought. She was supposed to be determined. All Careers were. She always would be determined. _Because all Victors are._

* * *

 **Sable Monarch (15) D10F**

Every day, life in the District was the same. Sable woke up, she ate breakfast, she murdered animals for hours, and then she finished her day by talking with friends or family, eating supper, and going to bed. Life seemed pointless. Nothing really mattered, since people all died in the end. Yet they all fought for a chance to live, they all gasped at the thought of death, and they all kicked and screamed whenever danger happened. Sable wasn't going to say that was wrong. She did the same things. She just didn't understand the big deal about dying.

Sighing, Sable took her gun and pointed it at a cow. _Just one more murder my father wants me to do,_ she thought. She kept killing these innocent creatures. The cows never did anything to hurt her. She didn't even get anything directly from killing them. Sable refused to eat something that was once an animal, since the animal had just as many rights as she did. All she got was blood money and her father's approval, only one of which she cared about.

"Sable, it's time for us to go," Chia called. Sable looked up from the corpse she had just made and walked off with her friend.

"All right!"

"What should we do now?" Chia asked.

"It's time for the Reapings, silly!" Sable said, smiling at Chia. Chia gasped.

"I completely forgot! We don't have time to change. I'll have to wear my outfit!" Chia said, almost crying. She was wearing a nice red shirt and brown skirt, but it was coated in blood. "I forgot to stand behind the wall!"

"We can trade real quick!" Sable said, whipping off her shirt. Sable's white shirt was mostly unstained by blood, because she had lurked behind the gate the cow stood behind. No blood could reach her. Sable whipped off her pants, too, handing them to Chia. The cold air reached her quickly, but she didn't mind. Sable's main worry was how indecent she was being. While Sable didn't always focus on being completely modest, wearing nothing but underwear was odd for her.

"Oh, Sable, you're a lifesaver! Thank you so much!"

 _I'm anything bu_ t, Sable thought to herself. _Didn't you see me taking all of those lives? I may as well be a Career. I kill more often than they do._ She didn't dare say that out loud. "No problem! Just hurry up, okay? I'm in my knickers!"

* * *

 **Gabriella Wesley (15) D10F**

Various shades of lipstick and eyeshadow decorated the counter Gabriella was looking at. She had blushes, foundations, and mascaras galore. They were just on a shelf at the moment, since Gabriella wasn't using them. She was trying to find the perfect shade of eyeshadow to match her striking blue eyes, and she would work on the rest of her outfit from there. She had plenty of time, because she started getting ready for the Reaping as soon as the sun began to rise. Gabriella was always a bit fancy, but the Reaping was the one day where she had an excuse to go all out.

Applying a black eyeshadow, Gabriella surveyed her lipsticks. Her eyes settled on a deep red she saw. She rarely wore that one, since it would look dumb if she applied it wrong. She was confident today that she wouldn't apply it wrong, so she decided to put it on as soon as she was done with her eyeshadow. She wanted to do a lovely smoky eye she had never quite perfected, thinking today was a good a day as any to learn.

Once Gabriella's full face of makeup was applied, she started the meticulous process of curling her hair. em _I'm going to be the best dressed one today. I always am. These plebeians don't have any fashion sense. Saying that they're too busy working for their families, taking care of their dying sisters... Peasants_ , Gabriella thought to herself, enjoying the warm feeling of her hair against her head.

"Hey there, Hanna!" Gabriella called out to her one friend in the District. Hanna was a full five years older than Gabriella, but that just endeared the two towards each other. Hanna got to be the older sister Gabriella never got, giving her fashion advice, boy advice, and the companionship no one in the District offered.

"Hey! Are you ready for the Reaping yet?" Hanna said, peeking into Gabriella's room. Hanna often entered the house uninvited, and no one minded. Amara and Jakei, Gabriella's parents, didn't mind Hanna.

"Not quite! I still need to pick out my outfit," Gabriella said, not exiting her closet. Gabriella had a walk-in closet, a treasure few people in Ten could afford.

"I thought you were going to wear that gold dress? You know, the one your grandparents got you? Where do they get all of these gifts, anyways?"

"Didn't I tell you? They got invited to live in the Capitol, for some reason. Anyways, I was! Thanks for reminding me. What shoes?" Gabriella muttered absentmindedly, slipping the gold dress on carefully to avoid messing up her makeup. It wasn't hard. There was almost no fabric that could mess up the makeup.

"How about these black heels? I'd say they'd work well!"

"Anything works well if you know how to work it, which I definitely do! I will wear them. Thank you, darling!" Gabriella slipped on the shoes and made her way toward the Reaping. She still had an hour before it started, but she had to take her time getting there, or she might sweat. If she didn't get a good spot, her makeup might rub off. Nothing could ruin her day more than ruined makeup.

* * *

 **Fresia Ford (18) D10F**

 _22 Jesus answered, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me." 23 Because of this, the rumor spread among the believers that this disciple would not die. But Jesus did not say that he would not die; he only said, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?"_

 _24 This is the disciple who testifies to these things and who wrote them down. We know that his testimony is true._

 _25 Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written._

Fresia wrote out the last three verses her gospel had to offer, slowly drawing her pen along each word. These words, fresh in her mind from the stories her father told, were her job to take care of. She had to keep track of them forever and keep writing them, over and over again. If she didn't, they could get lost forever, destroyed like so many carbon copies of the Bible had been before. One thing the Capitol couldn't just burn was memories, and that was one thing Fresia had to offer. She also had the dedication to write out this book, finishing it with a deep blue color. Her fonts had many different colors, each changing to fit the mood of what she was writing. The end of John was dark blue because it was the end of the last gospel, and the last Chi Ro page had been written.

Sighing, Fresia stood up. She gathered the pages of her book together, carefully handling the last one so as not to smudge the ink, and carried them to her father's desk. She knew her father would be impressed with her work. He had been impressed with Lamentations, which she hadn't been able to pour her heart into nearly as much. Lamentations was too sad, in her mind, to fit into the Bible. The Bible should have been the epitome of happiness, but Lamentations didn't fit, and it showed. The writing was duller than her writing was in John, mostly using faded colors and sad pictures.

"I'm finally done!" Fresia said to Nina, smiling brightly. She was finally done writing the book she had worked on for the last three years, slowly memorizing and putting lovely calligraphy into each and every letter.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! It must be so pretty. You _have_ to let me see it after your dad's done looking it over, all right? I've seen some other books, and they're all dull, but I've seen you gathering all of those berries. You eat fine, so they've gotta be for ink. They must be so pretty! I can't wait to see a real print of one of the gospels," Nina said, speaking almost as quickly as Fresia could process the words.

Fresia understood everything Nina was saying. She had seen a full Bible only a couple of times in her life, when she got to see the group put one together just to make sure it was all there. To the best of her knowledge, none existed in Panem. The books were kept separate from each other, only a couple in each home, so that if anyone was compromised the rest would be fine.

"It must be pretty! Even I want to see it. It's taken you so long," Anjou piped up. Fresia could process Anjou's interest, too. Even to someone who wasn't a Christian, the Bible was exciting. The Chi Ro pages were as beautiful as Fresia could make them, and they were often action-packed.

"I'll see if I can show you once Dad's done. He might not want me to, though. Neither of you are part of the group," Fresia said, frowning. Anjou wasn't part of the group because she didn't believe, and Nina couldn't handle the stress. Both of those were reasonable, but that meant they were loose wires, and they couldn't be fully trusted. "I probably can, though. Trust is what this is about."

* * *

 **Gary Johnson (17) D10M**

 _Train day in and day out. Train whenever you're not working. Eat around training, don't train around eating._ Gary kept repeating those thoughts to himself while he worked out. Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, weights. He thought about Careers and their training while he worked. They thought every second mattered, just like he did. They just thought it for entirely different reasons. Careers trained to murder. Gary trained for self-defense. Everybody had to train, according to Gary. He just had more time for it than most.

 _One less bruise on Mom. One less broken arm for Sadie. One less sleepless night for Scott,_ Gary thought, thinking "one less" for every push-up he did. He had to keep himself motivated, and that was easy when he had a goal. He kept putting images into his mind, images of his bruised and bleeding mother or his crying little sister. Those images should have been a fantasy, but they weren't. _They're going to be soon enough._

At sixty-five push-ups, Gary let himself stand up. He was worn out from his workout, but every workout was worth it. Groaning slightly, Gary started walking down the stairs, heading to where he knew his mother would be waiting. It was almost time for supper, a meal Gary was lucky enough to have almost every night. Three working family members meant plenty of food.

A sudden scream made Gary sprint instead of walk down the stairs. He reached the ground to see his immediate worries confirmed.

"I told you! I told you to get rid of that boy! I told you to come back to me where emyou belong!" /emGary's dad was yelling, throwing his mother to the ground. Gary gasped as he saw his mother reaching for a knife. He sprinted to his father, despite his screaming muscles, and put himself between them.

"You're not welcome here," Gary said, glaring at his father and lowering his voice. He was the same height as his father, but the difference in strength was clear. Gary's father could beat up scared women and children. Gary wasn't scared, and wasn't a child. He also definitely wasn't weak, like his father wanted him to be.

"Neither are you," his father replied. "Right, Jennifer?" Gary's father glared at his wife, who was currently standing up. She shook quietly behind Gary, averting her gaze from the man she had once loves. "I said, RIGHT?"

"Stop it! Stop it! Get out of here forever, or one of these times I won't stop Mom from grabbing that knife. Or one of these times I will smash your head in myself!" Gary yelled, leaning in toward his father. He stood on tiptoes, a skill most people didn't have. It made him a lot more intimidating, since it added about an inch to his height. "Don't think I won't!"

Gary's father glared at him, then glanced at his mother. Sure enough, Jennifer was reaching for a knife, and Scott and Sadie were coming down the stairs, holding a chair and a piece of glass. Gary's father glared more intently for a second, then sighed. "You're going to regret this. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you regret this. And I mean all of you. Wife. Kids. And the disowned one," he said, storming out of the room.

Jennifer sank to the ground, sobbing. Gary bent down beside her, pulling the knife out of her hands. He slipped the knife to Sadie, pulling his mother toward him. "You're going to be fine, Mom, okay? I'm... I'm going to make all of this better. We'll all be all right soon. Dad won't be able to touch you anymore. Nobody will. I'll get us out of this. I swear."

* * *

 **Two Chapters in a day for the speedy updates. Thanks to SilverflowerXRavenpaw for writing these quickly and I have to admit. You're a cool collaborator to have for this story along with my other collaborators. I'm going to get the last 2 in by Saturday so I could actually start start the story. If anyone has a 9 and 11 male that would be great so I don't have to make them (which can be a while since I'm sick and school so that sucks) so I think it's enough rambling. What did you think of the tributes?**


	19. District 9

**Autumn Fields (13), District 9**

Autumn sighed to herself and tried to keep her breathing under control so that she doesn't panic and would get the snake provoked if she done something stupid. She had no idea if the snake, itself, was venomous or not. Autumn really didn't want to die today but she stood there. Letting the fear in her cause her heartbeat to rapidly beat like a mockingbird flapping its wings.

You could do this, Autumn thought to herself. It was another day, another day to try and get over her fears of the slimy, slippery snakes that she swore followed her. It didn't really help with snakes and spiders were commonly found a lot and she would try to put herself in front of them like a few feet away before she would chicken out. "Nice, snake, I don't think you want to bite me... Go find yourself a rat or a field mouse," She spoke which came out in a squeak instead of a normal, casual voice she'd been going for. She sounded redundant talking to a snake like that, it wasn't like it could understand what Autumn was saying.

Autumn sidestepped, keeping her green eyes amongst the small, garden snake which she assumed it was but she could be wrong but she sighed in relief as she managed to walk away even though she felt like a coward doing so but she had somewhere to be. Home.

It was a simple lie of telling the people at school that she was going to be late to her shift which wasn't uncommon in District 9 so she walked home instead. After her parents died only a year in between, Autumn helped out with her brother-Harvey with the children who she considers are even though she was a child still. Thirteen but still.

The only reason why she hadn't lived in a community home still even though it was mandatory for children who had no parents go to a community's home was because she kept it as a secret of her mother's death. It was easy lying that her mom had terrible migraines. It wasn't like anyone would actually investigate that she nor her siblings had her parents alive.

"Do you need any help?" Autumn asked once she entered her house and saw her brother drinking a cup of water who jumped at the sudden interruption.

"Give Smye and Karl some lunch so they could shut up with their informational talk," Harvey responded before adding on, "No offense."

"None taken," Autumn said, "So how is your day been? Have you been productive today? Kept busy and not going into your protective-nature?" She bombarded him with questions which he didn't respond until he finished his glass of water. She was a talkative one and would probably have a conversation with someone until they died but that was how she is. Talked a lot and people looses patience and would walk away as that usually happened but she didn't mind. It was in her nature.

* * *

 **Dan Grant (15), District 9**

Dan returned home which wasn't much was just a large, cardboard box that just kept the moisture out whenever it rained. Never snow as it didn't snow in District 9 but at least it wasn't that hot. It's been a few years since he'd been kicked out of his family after the accident.

It wasn't his fault that the family's father broke his neck and unable to work in the fields after that-the same place where his parents died only years before by that sudden fire. He only remembered it vaguely of what happened. His parents were working in the fields. It was a worse summer with no rain at all and a fire started but that was all the details he knew.

His seven siblings gave him away along with a few others once they realized that they couldn't take care of all of their siblings. That was how he got to the family as a servant but at least he had the necessary items that he would need to survive and this was a real challenge. But he was determined to stay on the streets alive even if Dan had to scrounge around for food to be able to survive which kinda consisted of eating old food and the tiny scraps that was in the trashcans.

"Oh you poor dear," someone cried out out which almost made Dan stiffen up when he turned around slowly. Seeing a short, petite, old woman carrying some delicious goods in her hands. "Living in this place where it's all cinders and uncouth too! Here have some food. I have plenty at home anyways." She handed him a bag which he took cautiously before voicing out,

"Thank you."

"No problem. Come and find me if you want more." the woman turned around and headed somewhere. That was really strange but okay. It was better than nothing though.

He opened up the paper bag and pulled out two blueberry muffins, some cookies-chocolate chip if he identified it correctly and a loaf of bread. Strange...

* * *

 **I have a chapter already prewritten and edited also but I'm working on the others now. It gives me something to do while I get frustrated over a teacher and my sprain wrist (again) which ugh sucks. So how did you like the tributes? I'm waiting on 11 now but shouldn't take too long for it to come in hopefully.**


	20. District 11

**Alice Manah (12) D11F**

Alice smiled when she woke up. She always did that. A smile was a good way to start the day right, and get up with a good attitude, something that Alice thought everybody should have. Alice could understand well why a bad attitude seemed tempting. It was easy just to break down and give in to everything the world held, but that was pointless. All it did was make you weaker. _I have everything I need, and everything is great. My biggest problem today is the Reaping._

Walking down the stairs, Alice was greeted by Judy and Thomas, her parents. She could smell eggs cooking, as well as toast. She wanted to peek over her father's shoulder to see what sort of eggs he was making. She couldn't smell onions or any spices, which meant it wasn't the extremely fancy scrambled eggs her family got once in a blue moon. Alice appreciated the surprise of what her breakfast would be, so she didn't decide to look at what was being made. Instead, she turned to set the table with her mother.

"Today's going to be a big day," Alice said to her mother, setting out silverware beside the plates her mother set down.

"It definitely is! Your first Reaping. You come home right after it's done, all right? We'll both be dying to know how it went," Judy replied, before Thomas had time to say anything. She glanced at Thomas' slightly hunched over figure, making sure he didn't get to talk. His voice would crack.

"Of course I will! I'll tell you all about it," Alice said, wondering how it would go. She knew there was a chance that she would be Reaped, but it didn't feel like a real chance. It was just as real as the fact that someday her parents would die, but it felt just as fake.

"Eggs are ready! I made dipping, you favorite!" Judy jumped when Thomas spoke. His voice quivered slightly, but it didn't break. He was smiling and dishing out everyone one egg and one slice of toast. It was a fancy meal for the family of three, and all conversation stopped while the family dug in.

"Well, I have to go now, I guess. I'll see you soon!" Alice said, jumping up and running out the door. She smiled all the way to the Reaping, trying her best to ignore the imminent danger she was heading toward. There was no way she would be Reaped. She was only twelve. That didn't happen often. Still, Alice had to wonder why tears streaked Thomas' face while she walked out the door.

* * *

 **Bean Brna (14) D11F**

Bean frowned when she woke up. Today was not going to be a good day. Today she was going to be headed off to the Reaping, where everyone was going to be worried, and she was going to cry, and someone was going to make fun of her. It would probably be a boy, one of the twelve or fourteen year olds. The fifteen year olds were mature enough not to tease over something like tears.

"Come on, Bean! It's time for you to get up!" Lexi's voice snapped Bean out of her preemptive self-pity.

"What's the point? Why not just lie here and die?" Bean replied, not bothering to sound like she cared at all about what she was saying. Normally she would have let laughter slip into her voice, hinting that she was joking, but this time, she wasn't.

"Well, today is definitely going to stink. But I hear that we get to have scrambled eggs because it's a Quarter Quell! Isn't that super cool? Lots of kids go through this place without hitting a Quarter Quell, yet here we are, getting scrambled eggs."

Bean sighed. She sat up from her bed, slowly standing up. She had to walk carefully along the floor of the bedroom. Even though Bean had been in the Children's Home for years, she could hardly believe that the floor would hold under her weight. The boards were shoddy, and they creaked with every step. "I suppose I'm going to have to get up. I may as well do it in time for the food." Bean's eyes sparkled this time while she spoke, and Lexi smiled.

"Who knows? Maybe today Meri actually used salt!" Lexi said, still trying to force Bean into her normal cheeriness. Bean smiled.

"Hopefully! That would be a lot of salt, though. There are a lot of us." Bean's eyes sparkled when she considered each of the children in the home, most of them actually good people. She smiled when she got her plate of eggs, although she wasn't sure exactly how she was going to eat them. She knew there was a small chance she could get salmonella from the eggs, and she didn't want to have to deal with that. Salmonella could be deadly, and this was not going to be the day Bean would die.

* * *

 **Chole Bell (15) D11F**

Chole shoved Saffron's leg off her side of the bed, shifting her position. Her younger brother somehow managed to sleep in the middle of the bed each night, and he spread his legs out until there was almost no room left for her on the small mattress. She saw Saffron start to wake up when she touched him, and she frowned. She hadn't intended to wake her brother. She just wanted some more room.

"What was that? You always let me sleep on you," Saffron said, drowsiness still thick in his voice. He was telling the truth. On most nights, Chole just dealt with it when she felt her brother's leg crossing onto her side of the bed. One leg wasn't the end of the world, and she knew her brother needed his sleep. Everyone in their small family did.

"I actually want to get to sleep tonight. Big day tomorrow, remember?" Chole wriggled out from under the blanket she was sharing with Saffron, letting him take it all. She really did need her sleep now and then, especially on the night of the Reaping. emSaffron doesn't understand. His chances of getting Reaped haven't gone up at all. He's a boy.

"Yeah, whatever. Thanks for the blanket." Chole smiled. She wasn't cold at all. Her brother seemed more susceptible to the night's normal chill than she was, so she didn't mind giving him her blanket. She was perfectly warm in her pajamas, and Saffron could be perfectly warm under all of the tattered blanket he now had. _Maybe now he'll stop hogging the bed. He doesn't need to fight for the blanket._

Still, Chole knew there was no chance of sleep. Tomorrow was the Reaping. Chole knew she might not be coming home. It was more likely this year than any of the others she had been in the pool for getting Reaped. To make matters worse, if she got Reaped, she was less likely to come home than on a normal year - which was saying something. Chole closed her eyes and tried to force all of the thoughts out of her mind. She didn't want anyone to have to deal with the Games. She didn't want anyone to have to leave their family behind, or to fight to death. But somebody was going to have to do it, and it could be her.

* * *

 **Ace Johnson (17) D11M**

"Khora, honey! I have to go. The Reapings are happening right now. I really can't stay," Ace said, pleading with his girlfriend. She and he were in the middle of an argument, and Khora insisted that he should never leave an argument unsolved. He agreed with her wholeheartedly, but for once, something more important than being courteous had popped up, and it was something that Ace couldn't avoid.

"Oh, fine! Just leave. Leave me like you've been planning to do from the start! You can never stay with anyone, can you? Would you leave your own mother? You have no sense of loyalty. You have no sense at all! You're completely worthless. Why do I keep you around? You're just dragging me down!" Khora yelled at Ace. Ace flinched at the words. emThere's no way they can be true, /emhe said to himself, doubting the truth of his thoughts. Maybe he was dragging Khora down. Maybe he should let her leave him behind. Maybe it was the courteous thing to do.

Ace closed his eyes and focused. He had to make sure to keep his voice steady, not raising his voice like Khora was hers. Khora was a lady, and she deserved to be treated like such. "Khora, I'm not just going to leave you. If I'm not Reaped, I will come home right after the Reaping, and we can finish this then. Don't you remember when you were of Reaping age? You couldn't just skip, either."

"Do I remember? How dare you insult me like that. How dare you call me stupid. Of course I remember. I remember that I had nothing important holding me home. I remember that I didn't have a girlfriend waiting at home for me, desperately trying to give an idiot a second chance! Do you think you deserve this chance? Because you don't!" Khora ended her words with a slap to Ace's face, glaring at him and breathing heavily from all of her screaming.

Ace took a step backward, his hand flying to his face. His cheek stung where he had been slapped, stinging more intensely where Khora's ring had scored him. He sighed and turned from the argument. "I'm sorry, Khora. I have to go, and there's nothing I can do about it. I do still love you. I do still want another chance. I just have to go." Ace left the house before tears could start flowing from his eyes. He didn't want her to see them and call him weak because of that, just like because of everything else.

* * *

 **What did you think of the District 11 pair. I was waiting for it to come in for weeks so here it is. Thanks SilverflowerXRavenpaw for writing it on like a short notice. I have another chapter written but I don't have time.**


	21. Reapings 1-4

**Reapings 1-4**

 ** _Lilian Craghtwight, District 1 Escort_**

Lilian wiped off the smudge that somehow managed to find her way on her flawless, pearl teeth before she grinned to herself as she looked at her appearance: her mint-green hair straightened and reached to her shoulders and her ice blue eyes seemed to pop at the amount of makeup she put on. She couldn't disappoint the District with a pure monotonous outfit for this year's games. Besides this year's Hunger Games wasn't ordinary. This year was the 8th Quarter Quell.

Lilian stood up and wobbled on her six inch high heels for a second before she bounced onto the stage once it was her turn to come on and introduce herself and reaped those lucky tributes for the Hunger Games. She adored seeing those mighty strong careers with once a full moon with a reaped tribute and hope to see them come back alive but she couldn't attach herself to them when they don't come back alive; somehow Lilian always got attached to the tributes every year since she got chosen to be the District 1 escort.

"Welcome to the 200th Annual Hunger Games also known as the 8th Quarter Quell! My name is Lilian Craghtwight and I will be your District 1 escort for this year's Hunger Games!" Lilian exclaimed in the microphone which she resisted to flinch at the loud noise. "But first… Let's watch the video from all the way from the Capitol." _That was really lame. Perhaps I could try a different approach to greet the Citizens of District 2,_ Lilian thought to herself.

Lilian sighed softly as the video began in the background but the video was the same every year which greatly provoked her as Lilian loved changed, it was like fashion as it changes every week. With this week, was a pretty green colour that reminded her of mints that she often ate. It would explain her mint-green wig for this year's Huger Games.

"Our female tribute is… Sapphire Bloom!"

"I volunteer!" A girl cried out who wore a white dress that looked very beautiful against her chocolate skin.

"What's your name?" Lilian asked, curious like she always was when there was a volunteer.

"Bridget Neverland," came the reply. "Hopefully I could win this."

"Plantanium Glitzard."

There was a sudden hush in the atmosphere was a boy came out from the sixteen year old section with a smirk on his face that looked like he was quite proud to be reaped but there was no volunteers. Well this year was going to be good. Secretly, Lilian hoped that Bridget came back and Plantanium died but she couldn't play favourites.

* * *

 ** _Neptune Ryes, District 2 Escort_**

Neptune fixed his ocean hair. Perhaps his name really fitted him after all he adored anything that was the colour blue and Neptune was blue at least according to the pictures but he wasn't really sure. It would also explain Neptune's outfit that only consisted of a deep shade of blue that he really wanted to sleep with it or cuddle up with it.

He loved being an escort for District 2 as they almost always win besides the expectations of the other districts but this district was the best besides the Capitol. Oh how much he couldn't wait until he gets to the Capitol to go shopping for more blue and spend more time fawning over the colour blue and maybe interact with the mentors and the tributes which he really hoped he picked more than 1 girl name as it could be really fun though maybe that was just him though.

"Good afternoooooooon, District 2!" Neptune screamed, purposely dragging the 'o' for a long time to give it a neat sound. He was all for extravagance and such. "Now let's see who our lucky tributes are from this District to compeeeeete in the 8th Quarter Quell but first… Letsssssss watch a video before we do that."

Of how much Neptune loved the video and making the the letters drag out for like an eternity until he cuts it. He payed attention to it even though he could probably recite it in his sleep though but still it wasn't so much. It held a lot of information out of it which really wasn't anything new though.

"That was fun… Who's our lucky tribute going to be… Astoria Cooper!"

A frightened squeak was heard from the thirteen year old but he ignored it; after all it wasn't really rare though. It happened a lot though but people almost always volunteered though so no one really had to worry about being reaped into the games.

"I volunteer!" A girl screamed practically bounced on stage while the thirteen year old looked relieved that she didn't go into the games.

"What's your name?" He inquired.

"Ivy Butler," Ivy responded.

"Persephone Black!"

"I volunteer!" Another girl cried out. _Well at least I got myself another female like I wanted to earlier,_ Neptune thought to himself as he looked at the volunteer. "Alkali Mori

"Charles Star!"

"I volunteer!" someone cried out, rushing from the thirteen year old section again with a smile that looked like he was going to win. "My name is Lime Malachite."

* * *

 ** _Adelina Fang, District 3 Escort_**

Adelina rubbed her eyes from the tiredness that she knew that it was her fault that she might have stayed up all night because she couldn't sleep; plus those nightmares that left her breathless that she failed her duties in being an escort for District 3 so that the Capitol executed her, okay that bit sounded harsh but that was how much Adelina feared her job.

When Adelina applied for the job, she was a little worried but it wasn't so bad but now that she was know in District 3, the district she was assigned, brought panic attacks a lot. How can Adelina be a good escort? Perhaps, she was worrying too much for her own good but that was what little Adelina did while she was growing up in the middle class of the Capitol. Gosh, how much it mortified Adelina when someone talked about her past as it was some juicy gossip to tell; her friends wouldn't let it down at how ridiculous Adelina looked.

Rainbow coloured hair with maroon extensions hanged in two low braids with large, grandma glasses hanging off her face because she didn't bother paying for the operation to get fixed at the time. Everyday, Adelina wore a red sweater with those miniscule, colourful pom-poms that she used to glue onto her clothes or artwork because she loved them matched with a matching skirt and rainbow tights with dress shoes. Yes, Adelina's fashion sense was a little terrible which made Adelina cringe whenever her friends or family discuss or looking at pictures from her past. Now, she kept her rainbow hair just straightened, got rid of those dorky glasses letting her emerald eyes out that was cloaked by those dorky glasses, and changed her fashion sense drastically; wearing black after her baby girl died before she even reached a month old, something that she would not dwell on a lot.

"Miss Fang, you're on," someone said, interrupting her as she pondered on in her thoughts.

"Of course," Adelina said, wiping that small frown that was replaced by a smile that could put a cheshire cat to shame. She put a bounce into her step and look at her normal outfit; she wore a simple white dress with spaghetti straps that was made of silk and reached to her knees, a rarity that Adelina wore colour instead of black.

"My name is Adelina Fang and I will be your escort for these lucky tributes for this year's Hunger Games!" exclaimed Adelina, as she gazed at the depressed crowd but glanced away quickly. "Let's watch the wonderful video brought from the Capitol!"

The video turned on after she said that, Adelina payed attention, curious to what the video contained. Soon, the video screen went black and she turned her attention back to the gloomy crowd of District 3 which kinda bought her spirits down at their gloomy mood. "Hmm…. Agnes Stuart!"

Adelina heard a reticent squeak and a shaking girl stepped out of the thirteen year old section, her steps were slow and almost forced with the constant shaking she was doing almost made Adelina get her and hug her but she retained herself from doing that.

"Telle Versey!"

A seventeen year old walking out, looking stoic and very composed of herself but she was probably scared inside.

"Elijah RoseMarrie!"

Well at least it wasn't one of those thirteen year olds though.

* * *

 ** _Andy Artino, District 4 Escort_**

Andy blasted on some tunes that didn't have any vocals in it so he could relax a little bit. It seemed like a dream to be accepted into being an escort and an escort from District 4! His favourite district was perhaps District 4 as he always couldn't resist himself from sponsoring the tributes that came from four every year before he decided to make an application and go to the Academy for the future escorts for the districts. He really wasn't going go by the rules of what they say since honestly, Andy couldn't remember what they said as he always took a snooze in those morning classes.

 _You could do this, Andy,_ he silently told himself as he took a deep breath to relax the butterflies that were fluttering in his stomach and it almost made him want to hurl from the sheen of nervousness that he had. _Just don't do anything stupid for your first day,_ he added. He didn't wanted to be an escort that tripped up before he even picked the names. He would most likely be mortified for a while until he decided to quit being an escort. And everyone in Panem would find out how much he tripped up during the reaping of the tributes.

"Mister Artino, you're on in about a minute," someone called out which almost made Andy jump and drop his hollow-pod onto the floor which he just replaced after the same incident happened days ago. Money wasn't the problem for him, being able to be in the richer side with having tons of money. Andy just didn't like spending money, spent it on the necessary items that he would need and save it. "I suggest you get on stage quickly and wipe that frown off your face." Andy did just that, creating a smile which he hoped would be foolproof. He wasn't exactly a smiler so it was kinda challenging for him to do so.

"Of course," Andy muttered, putting his hollow-pod back into his back pocket of his Navy blue shorts that only consisted of just back pockets which he had to have them specifically design after the childhood accidents which Andy liked to call. It was an enigma to him. It happened repeatedly and just stopped.

He tapped his finger against the microphone to see if it was working which from the stares of amusement or curiosity at him being dumbfounded about their expressions. He really wasn't great at what emotion people were feeling from the body's expression. _Oops, maybe he shouldn't have done that but it was a lesson to remember for the next few years._ "Good afternoon, District 4... It's good to be here on this warm day. I'm your escort Andy Artino for the lucky tributes to enter the Hunger Games!" No applause... "Before we actually begin, let's watch the video!" _Too much enthusiasm._

The video was over too quickly for his taste but judging from the lack of expression in the crowd, he assumed it was played frequently but it could be from his lameness.

"Hmm... Sirene Hook!"

A girl came up on stage wearing a smile, blowing kisses and waving once she got on stage. _Well someone seems jubilant about being reaped,_ Andy thought as he chose another name out of the reaping bowl. It was combined so it almost filled up the entire bowl.

"River Semetha!"

There was a slight pause into the air, with the fifteen year old slowly walking on stage before a voice cried out, "I volunteer!" And walked on stage composed and her smile looked force as judging from where her eyes was settled-glued to the ground. She looked unhappy but he could be wrong.

"Dock Semetha!"

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" A boy asked that wasn't stepping forward before he cried out, "I volunteer!" That was certainly strange...

"The tributes from District 4- Sirene Hook! Cleo Rivera! And Diego Barbel!" yelled Andy with a smile blooming on his face. _This was defiantly going to be a fun Hunger Games,_ he thought to himself before he led himself and the tributes inside the Justice Building.

* * *

 **Quick note. Somehow I'm on my phone during band but Silver had to fix the mistakes and pointed out the IPod thing so I switched it to hollow-pod. So tell me what you think.**


	22. Reapings 5-8

**District 5-8 Reapings**

 _ **Nixie Nightwish-District 5 Escort**_

Nixie swiped off the terrible make-up that just made her so horrible which wouldn't be good. She was dazzling and everyone would have to adore her. It was the avox's fault for putting that terrible lipstick that made her stick out like a Bombay cat surrounded by Persians.

Nixie knew it was also her fault for allowing them to choose. Don't they know who they were talking to? Nixie Lila-Taylor Nightwish, heir to the Nightwish family, and she personally knew the President before her daughter, Ruina, was even born. But this was absurd. No person should ever mess up this badly and of course she knew she should've done it. But Nixie always had servants for that.

"Miss Nightwish, you're on in two minutes," someone called out which made Nixie roll her eyes at being commanded. Honestly, these blasted fools think she would listen to them. Don't they know about the crisis she has? She doubted they would even care.

"Can't you see that I'm busy?" Nixie snapped, carefully picking out a ruby-red colour from the box that was filled with rows of different lipsticks. "My makeup got messed up and I won't go on stage until my makeup is absolutely perfect."

She knew she probably most likely provoked him but ugh seriously. No one interrupts whatever she was doing. The next thing she knew, she was dragged onto the stage with a tube of ruby-red lipstick still in her head. _This didn't go as planned._

"Welcome all to the 200th Annual Games, I'm Nixie Nightwish and I will be your escort for these lovely tributes!" Nixie exclaimed, tucking the tube of lipstick in the pocket of her yellow sundress. "Before we begin... Let's watch a video." Even though she really didn't want to but that was protocol, sadly.

Nixie almost wanted to roll her eyes at the screen, but she refrained herself to do so. Maybe the video can get replaced to something more filling and not last year's fashion. Ugh, those knee-high black boots with the pink dresses was nice until the trend stopped like getting surgically bronze eyes that happened only recently.

"That was fun... Our tribute is Twyla Zahavyin!" Most likely, Nixie actually pronounced her name wrong as she said it, "Za-have-in". _1 female with no males. So far so good._

"Brandon Alderwood!"

 _Yes, no more females_. At least Nixie didn't have to deal with the whiny females who are always crying especially that pair last year. Whiners, all of them. Imagine dealing with twenty or above female tributes; Nixie would totally retire after that fiasco but luckily this wasn't the case. It was just another normal year for District 5.

* * *

 _ **Calvin Gold-District 6 Escort**_

Calvin winced as he saw a large bruise forming on the right side of his cheek, plastered right in the middle which was noticeable from the violet colour the bruise shown. It wasn't like Calvin did anything, perhaps it was his fault for being out partying all night yesterday.

It was his twenty-first birthday and well he thrown a huge birthday party with lots of glitter and it seemed fun for a few hours before his boyfriend, Aedion, dragged him out to a bar with a few of their close friends; Calen, Missy, Steven and Michael partied and the rest turned hazy. One minute he had a few too many drinks of Vodka mixed with a bit of beer and the next he was lying in bed with violet bruise forming on his cheek.

Calvin touched the bruise which made him flinch from the pain. There was no way in hell that he would be able to conceal the bruise until he got back to the Capitol and put on a bruise ointment to get rid of the bruise. He would have done it earlier but he overslept. Grabbing the blush, he swiped the brush at the same repeatedly until the large bruise was concealed. Temporarily, but at least no one would actually notice until it was gone.

District 6. How much Calvin didn't like this district but once he actually bought home a victor he could be an escort for the higher districts, possibly 1 or 2 depending on which one brings home the victors the most. "I'll be right on!" He yelled out, carefully peering at his cheek. Praying that no one would notice, he stood up, brushing away the invisible dust on his silk outfit. _I look dazzling,_ he thought to himself.

"Happy 200th Annual Hunger Games and Luck..." Calvin trailed off, taking a deep breath he continued on, "Luck can be on your side... Before we begin, let's watch a video till we find out who the tributes are." _Lame besides the 'luck can be on your side' which was a rip-off of 'May the odds be ever in your favour'._

The video soon turned off and Calvin sighed in relief. The video was too damn old. "Hmm... Clio Tracks!"

A girl walked on stage with her hair cut short almost like his but not quite. Wonderful.

"Tera Hill-Olcain!" _That certainty was a mouth full._

"Zircon Stardusk!"

At least Calvin wouldn't be escorting like all the females in the whole entire district. It was only two and not like 20,000 females. _Step 1 done, step 2 and 3 to go._

* * *

 _ **Aelin Benoit-District 7 Escort**_

Aelin drummed her fingers lightly against the smooth surface of the desk which was really bland and was in the shape of needing a new colour and possibly something a little nicer but this wasn't the Capitol. This was a poor district where there barely was colour.

An avox combed gently through her white hair. She was surprised that the bleach and hair dye actually worked and it only been about three months since she got her haircut and her hair bleached to a pretty white colour which was almost silver in a way. Aelin wouldn't dare to mess up her hair especially for this marvellous day.

The reaping.

Honestly, Aelin didn't know why the districts looked so miserable every year. It was such a wonderful thing to see who was the strongest both mentally and physically to survive the arena. It was like the olden days before it was Panem. Those days completely stank but at least she had money lots of it. She hoped the red jumper with those black knickers with those shoes and the belt was still on sale when the games were over.

This year, she wore black leggings with the black sandal high-heels and the gorgeous sky blue dress that had no straps on it. It was breathtaking and it would bring everyone to fawn over. Besides blue was in season so it didn't matter.

Aelin beamed once the avox stopped pulling at her hair; a flowery circlet was in her hair with two small braids that was barely seen but it looked nice. A bit basic, but there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, it reminded her of spring with all those flowers and plants and the warm weather was nice even though she had to deal with her allergies.

"Thank you," She murmured, touching her hair, carefully not getting it messed up. The avox nodded and turned away back into the shadows awaiting a command. Sometimes, Aelin felt pity for the avoxes but it was their fault for being a traitor to the Capitol.

Aelin stood up and walked on stage with a real grin plastered on her face. This was it; the moment she'd been waiting for. Stepping carefully on stage, she glanced at the motionless, blank crowd but this was normal. No need to get all worried.

"Welcome all!" She started. "I'm Aelin Benoit, the escort for this year's Hunger Games!"

Silence. It was too eerie but it was always been that way. She said the usual things, blah blah about what an honour it was to be here, the video from the Capitol. It was all nonsense.

"Our tribute is Rosa Ray!"

A fourteen-year-old came out in almost looking like she was in tears but this behaviour was normal.

"Juniper Violet!" _Juniper, what a strange name but at least it wasn't cliché. Good thing there was a variety in the district. Cherry, Apple are really common,_ Aelin thought to herself.

"Vivian Willows!"

 _Three females. At least so far it wasn't that many so that was a good thing. These are actually cool names and very creative especially Vivian and Juniper though. I haven't heard too much about the names and I know most of the names by heart at least. Vivian and Juniper weren't really among them. I really applaud their parents for naming them and being creative,_ Aelin thought to herself, she brought herself out of her thoughts and focused on the slip in her hand and cried out, "Blue Flametale!"

Aelin felt a chuckle wanting to burst out but that name was ridiculous. _Who would name a child Blue?_ _Fourteen, fifteens and a sixteen-year-old. Well that's nice._

* * *

 _ **Ingrid Reyes-District 8 Escort**_

Ingrid tossed her hair back, making sure it was perfect before she grabbed the hairspray. Honestly, she couldn't believe that the avox they normally had here was nos dead but at least actually have another avox. Who ever heard of having to do work? Ugh, this is going to suck.

"If I look ugly on stage, it's their fault!" She hissed, talking to no one in particular. She had a habit of talking to herself. It was most likely she hated the silence even as a child; silence scared her. It usually meant bad news which she couldn't stand especially after what happened yesterday.

Yesterday was unbearable with her mom dead all of a sudden was an enigma to her. One minute she was healthy, the next she got a comm saying she was dead. Ingrid didn't know what happened to her mom till the autopsy report but that could take ages though. It didn't help with today was her job for being an escort while all she wanted to do was be locked up in her room, eating ice cream and sob. It was her fault for saying "I hate you!" yesterday which now her guilt was consuming her.

She remembered the argument well about the cats with two of them pooping around the house; one being nit picky and the other not allowed outside. It actually resulted in dad frustrated and powerless, mom yelling, and crying almost wanting to leave and her, Ingrid, was crying three fucking times yesterday.

"You'll be fine, Ingrid," She told herself, wiping away a tear. Now was not the time to start crying. Besides, she had a job to do. She just hoped she would actually make it.

"Welcome all to the eighth Quarter Quell. I'm Ingrid Reyes and I will be your escort for this year..." Ingrid said, her tone lacked the usual enthusiasm, but she hoped no one actually noticed it. "Let's watch a video brought forth from the Capitol before I pick the tributes to compete in the Hunger Games!"

Ingrid ignored her urge to cry and tried to breathe as evenly as she could. "That was fun." Once the video turned off and she continued on,

"Our tribute is Lacey Weavers!" _Lacey, that was a nice name. A little common but decent._

She carefully dug around the bowl feeling the slips of names surrounding her hand. She chose one and read, "Yarnn Ashen!" _Yarnn, kinda sounds like a boy's name, but she wouldn't judge. It was creative at least._ Ingrid saw a girl walking stiffly to the stage and ignored her before she called out another name,

"Damask Rockwell!"

These tributes seem okay, a little shaken though and one almost in tears. It almost made Ingrid wanted to cry, but she fought the urge. Now wasn't the time to cry!

* * *

 **So true story, yesterday there was an argument and it resulted me in crying 3 times maybe more and the topic was about getting rid of the cats. It left me in tears, my dad feeling powerless and frustrated and my mom, screaming like a banshee, yelling, arguing about the damn cats and almost canceling my little sister, Luna's first birthday party. She almost left and dragged my sisters along with her. Yesterday wasn't a good day and I was in the math counts yesterday and got second place missing the simplest question there was. But no one died so yeah. What did you think of this chapter? I'll try and get the last one out by Friday but can't make promises.**


	23. Reapings 9-12

**Reapings 9-12**

 _ **Adonis Wilkens-District 9 Escort**_

Adonis grimaced as he slowly put an earring on his ear; he accidentally stabbed himself with the earring which almost made him panic but he refrained himself from doing just that. It seemed redundant for him to actually panic when he knew he should be calm and not going crazy, since he literally did forget to take his meds for his illness.

Adonis really abhorred taking his medication but he knew he was taking a risk, as he knew without taking the medication he could suffer some complications and possibly die. But it really wasn't his fault that the aftertaste was so vile.

A small twinge in his heart made Adonis see stars in his eyes, but that was normal; no need to panic, right? This behaviour was normal for his body to do; a common reflex that happens regularly without taking his medication. _It's not like I really value my life,_ he told himself as he studied himself. _I'm just living, with no soul whatsoever. Sometimes I think I will be better if I kill myself. At least no one would actually worry about me._

 _What was the point in living?_ To him, life was useless, as he had no one to actually take care of him besides his pets, and they stopped taking care of him after they died a week ago from old age. Hs family and friends really didn't want anything to do with him, but he really didn't care. It's just the same, old, monotonous routine; nothing special.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and tried to wipe off the pain off his face. _No one really cares about your pain, right? After all, it's just in my head; a parasite I'm supposed to find and kill. Just few more weeks, just gotta keep going,_ he told himself.

He stepped on stage, wearing a grin that he knew that was fake but it didn't matter. The reaping would last only a few minutes; nothing to actually worry about. _Besides, you can have a heart attack right on stage,_ his mind whispered. Adonis had a bad habit of making every outcome have a worst possible ending but he knew he couldn't avoid it all. Silently, he grabbed the microphone and spoke out clearly, "W-Welcome everyone to the 200th Annual Hunger Games. I'm your escort, Adonis Wilkens, for the tributes of District 9!"

"Before we begin. The Capitol has brought a special video to show you all." He turned his attention to the screen and he recognized instantly. it was the same one and besides it was just one step closer on continuing this.

Soon, the video cut off with Adonis speaking after a few seconds of pure silence, "That was nice… Our first tribute is Autumn Fields!"

 _A little one,_ he told himself and he shook his head dismally. He couldn't get attached to tributes that will meet a terrible fate.

"Dan Grant!" _I didn't expect to have only two tributes this year. Less worrying, though._

* * *

 _ **Cassiopeia Black-District 10 Escort**_

Cassiopeia frowned as she looked at the small rip which was considerably noticable. How could they do this to her? This day was supposed to be perfect and not have a slight mistake mess it up. Ugh, when she ordered the dress, it said it would be flawless and it was, but it could have been her crazy roommate that destroyed it.

"Anyone knows how to fix this dress?" She inquired, peering at the rip. It was large and unless someone actually knew how to fix a damn dress which should have been perfect but can't have everything. "It's ripped and I don't know how to fix it as its large!" Her voice went to the next octave on purpose.

"Use scissors?" someone suggested, not bothering to look at her.

"But I don't know how though.." whined Cassiopeia.

"Deal with it yourself," the same voice snapped, "Or you can get your arse on stage. You have 5 minutes!"

Huffing, Cassiopeia sat in a chair and grabbed scissors which was really weird and tried cutting away the rip which only made it worse than it should be. "But, it's hopeless. It's more ruined!"

"Just get your arse on stage!" the same voice cried out, which Cassiopeia roll her eyes at but obliged to the order. She couldn't just disappoint District 10 with her tardiness, as that was a big no no. She didn't want to get fired and besides she loved this job so much, besides the incompetence of the company but she was going to sue them or kill her roommate, whichever one came first. But that had to wait until her job was done of being a mentor; until one of her tributes won, or, well, tribute if she chose a boy first, but that was a slim chance.

"Alright, don't be such a bitch," she muttered underneath her breath as she stepped outside in the crisp, cool air with the sun shining brightly. She stared upon the residents of District 10. She really didn't like this district, but she hoped she could be carted off to one with a higher chance of winning. Besides, the Hunger Games were phenomenal and it was so disappointing that tributes that she escorted kept getting killed off more gruesomely than the next.

"Welcome, residents of District 10. I'm Cassiopeia Black, and I'll be your escort for the lovely, chosen tributes to compete in the 8th Quarter Quell," she said, calmly. There wasn't anything special about this part but she had to do it; it was a requirement.

She said the usual things and she smiled, as it was finally time to pick the tributes, the best part if you asked her.

"Gabriella Wesley!"

"Sable Monarch!"

"Fresia Ford!"

"Gary Johnson!"

* * *

 _ **Liz Maxowell (District Eleven Escort)**_

Liz washed her face for the third time in one day. She wanted her pale, purple skin to be absolutely flawless for the day ahead, and she couldn't get over the one red spot that wouldn't leave her cheek. She had washed her hands seven times before putting on white gloves that complemented her blue dress, which complemented her purple hair and eyes. A huge red splotch on the face couldn't be hidden with gloves, though. That problem had to be fixed, not hidden..

"Liz, you only have about five minutes before you need to get out there!" a voice called. Liz sighed.

"Is there any way you can help me finish preparing? I need some last-minute makeup," Liz replied. "I can't hide this red splotch!" Liz loathed the fake peppiness and politeness she had to put into her voice. The man she was talking to was a lower-down, so she should have been able to address him however she pleased. She knew that he wouldn't respond properly if she was rude, though. _Some people._

"Your face looks fine. It actually looks a bit pale. Have you been worrying? Anyways, you're fine. Just get out there," the man said, after peeking in for a second. Liz sighed again, but walked out onto stage.

 _If he can't see it, and he's up close, then they can't,_ Liz insisted to herself. She put on a smile as fake as the rest of her, then called out,

"Hello, citizens of Eleven! I am Liz Maxowell, your escort this year. I look forward to a happy Hunger Games, but before we can see this year's tributes, let's watch the beautiful video provided by the Capitol!" _I hope that sounded less fake than it was. That was terrible._

Liz waited impatiently while the video rolled. She could tell that the citizens were no more interested in the video than she was.

"All right! Let's meet out tributes," Liz shouted, digging her hand deep into the Reaping bowl. Her fingers clamped around a slip, and she pulled it out. "Bean Brna!" _Dang. Hope I pronounced that right._ Liz watched as a small, sunburnt girl walked out from the fourteen-year-old section, and she almost felt a twinge of pity. The girl was sobbing, and she had so much more reason than normal to be worried.

"Alice Manah!" Liz said, still wondering if she had pronounced the name right. A small girl walked out from the twelve-year-old section, but this one seemed different than the last. Her eyes glittered with defiance as she jumped onto the stage, skipping the steps entirely. Somehow, Liz felt like she was more likely to win than Bean.

"Chole Bell!" Liz croaked, her voice slowly getting sore. She had been yelling a lot. This girl was taller than the others, and she was fifteen. Liz watched her, trying not to let her eyes glitter with confusion. Despite being much bigger than the other two girls, she was crying as bitterly as the first.

"Ace Johnson!" _Finally, a man,_ Liz thought as she said the name. She had to deal with way more tributes than normal. The male walked out of the seventeen-year-old section, and Liz took in his features. He was tall, with a square face, and blue eyes. His eyes showed apprehension, but he was smiling, and he kept up his smile as he looked at the other girls. She heard him whisper that everything was all right to the girls, but she ignored it. That wasn't important. What was important was getting off the stage and wiping the red off her face.

* * *

 _ **Orellia Bubblewood (District Twelve Escort)**_

Orellia slipped on her hoop skirt, admiring her choice of fashion. _You know so much about old-timey things,_ she thought to herself, knowing how old-timey Twelve was. _Vintage._ She had to wonder how she was going to make it out the door, since her blue skirt was wider than the frame, but that wasn't an issue of importance. What mattered was that her leather shirt was _so_ vintage, and her blue skirt was _so_ perfect. Her shirt was bedazzled, to make it new-vintage, which just made everything better. It made her hair match the rest of the outfit, despite being white amongst bright colors.

Walking onto the stage, Orellia glared at the woman who was about to tell her to get onto stage. "I can do these things on my own," she said to the lady. The lady glared right back at her, but Orellia knew that didn't matter. As an escort, she had everything she needed, whether or not she had that woman's respect.

"All righty! It's time for this Reaping to get officially started! I'm Orellia Bubblewood, the coolest escort in this District. Before we start, we have a fantabulous video straight from the high-tech, completely cool Capitol to watch!" Orellia said, shifting slightly while she spoke to make sure that the cameras got every angle of her pale face, green lips, and bright red cheeks. Her gemstone-embedded cheekbones were flashing in the sun, pointing out her fuschia tattoos. Orellia was so deeply involved with her flaunting that she almost didn't notice when the video ended.

"Whups! Would you look at that? It's about time for me to let you see who's getting a chance to be Victor!" Orellia yelled, thrusting her arm into the Reaping bowl. She bent over, reaching all the way down to the bottom of the bowl, not pulling out a slip until her fingers scraped glass.

"Our first tribute will be Jaycee Farmark!" _What sort of last name is that? I thought vintage last names came from jobs. Weird job._ Orellia watched Jaycee come out of the seventeen-year-old section, crying a little bit. The girl was controlling her tears pretty well, but not well enough to seem steeled. _You're going to die, but we can have fun first!_

"Our next tribute will be Raven Wells!" Orellia prepared to reach into the bowl for another slip after she yelled the name. She started when she realized that she had Reaped a male, then realized that it wasn't that odd of an idea. Names were as names pleased. She was surprised to see a twelve-year-old that was thinner than she was and had a bruised face coming out of his section, crying as much as any other tribute she had ever Reaped. _Well dang._

* * *

 **I kinda apologize for this taking a little too long but you could blame my lack of inspiration and stupid writer's block (which is so severe right now but I swear I'll get the next one out as soon as I get the docx in). 2 different authors on this -Silver and I.**


	24. Train Rides: District 1

**Bridget Neverland-District 1**

Bridget used to dream of flying. She had grown up on a diet of fairies and mermaids and goblins and long ago queens. Her parents had never indulged her thirst for stories - but Cleopatra had poured more and more into her, telling her of her namesake Cleopatra, the story repeated so many time it had lost all meaning.

Sometimes Cleopatra would clutch her hand as she slipped into peaceful sleep, whispering of the waters they'd dive into with their shimmering mermaid tails and the clouds they'd perch on to give their wings a break.

But when Cleo had left with Scott, she took all the magic with her, and Bridget's dreams folded in on themselves - the ghosts of her imagination fostering her fear of depths and heights.

Alodia had never talked of magic, her dream had always been the Games, sitting in that Victor's chair and that crown on her head. No one had ever talked of magic in District 1.

It had always been the Games.

And the one person who had never wanted to go had gone and volunteered. Alone in the room, awaiting her parents and Cleo, Bridget had laughed herself silly. Her voice had gone hoarse and her hair had scattered everywhere, strands drifting to the ground, her scalp still burning from where she had ripped the hair out at the roots.

She had watched with glazed vision as she was led onto the train and had wandered onto the couch from there. Plantanium had sat down soon after at the opposite end. Their mentors and Capitol escort didn't arrive until they were well into their third replay of the 10th District Reaping.

Bridget didn't listened as Lillian had droned on and on. She saw the lady glance her way several times but hadn't responded.

Her head was too full of words and thoughts and emotions and pain to even comprehend English. She remembered telling Plantanium to sit down earlier, remembered bidding her family goodbye. Only Cleo had cried.

"Bridget Neverland. Hopefully I could win this."

She still didn't know why she had volunteered. She wasn't backed by the Academy to volunteer, she had the tiniest chance of getting out of the Games alive.

But getting out of the Games hadn't been what had been going through Bridget's head an hour earlier.

Sapphire Bloom was 12 years old.

And Sapphire Bloom was a dreamer.

And the world needed more dreamers.

* * *

 **Plantanium Glitzered-District 1**

It felt weird in the train. The constant movement, the rattling, the shaking. The feeling that you could scream and yell and parade around and you'd still be utterly helpless. Your life in the hands of a machine.

Plantanium had glanced once up at the looming train on his way to board. It cast a shadow for a hundred metres, utterly dwarfing all the pompous brats in their checkered waistcoats, smoking their pipes and watching the tributes departure through squinted eyes.

They had paid for that privilege. Paid for the feeling of his hand in their wrinkled grasp. Paid to see the train take off on the rails, glancing at their hand at it sped off - wondering if they'd shook the hand of a Victor or just another rotted corpse. Plantanium wiped his hands on his own coat, his eyes flicking to the screen as he did so. There were a mere five previous Victors that boarded the stage, clips from their own Games flashing on the 50 inch, replaying the five deaths that had won the Seven's their crowns. Keagan Mosttheen, the most recent Victor, entered the shot. His face was clean shaven and young, the youth a stark contrast to the brooding, bearded man on the stage. Keagan used a sword, wielding the foot long monster with confident strokes, severing the head from the crying 12 year old with ease. It was laughable how easily he had done it. Plantanium remembered watching that Game: not yet entered into the Academy, so naive in thinking that the girl should've won, looking vastly younger facing her 18 year old opponent. Thinking she deserved to win, biased on her youth.

He was so dumb.

Had been so dumb.

Bridget sat next to him on the couch, sitting rigid at the opposite arm rest. Her face was tight with barely concealed fear, her smooth features knit and worried. At that moment she looked so young, too young to be here, in a fight to the death, going into a fight Plantanium knew she would not return from.

Knew because it wouldn't be her going home.

Knew because it was going to be him. And that he wouldn't hesitate to knock her head in and spill her guts on the floor.

There was a mirror perched on top of the mantle. Rimmed with gold and its surface shining Plantanium caught a glimpse of a face inside. He lurched forward in his seat trying to get a better look at the fleeting image of the child.

He stood up.

A child stared back.

On the couch, Bridget asked lazily for him to get down, but Plantanium's eyes didn't move from the mirror for a moment. Because the boy looked so, so young. His chin bore no signs of stubble, his lips big and his eyes innocent.

Plantanium stared at himself, realizing as if for the first time, just how young he was.

He was so young.

And he did not want to die.

* * *

 **Nice surprise for me, but somehow I think I'm actually getting out of writer's block so I either get docx or I write D2 and 3. Seeing how it's nothing to do this week, as it's state testing next week, I could. Since FHR is going camping Friday, sent in the docx early.**


	25. Train Rides: District 7

**Train Rides: District 7**

 **Juniper Violet (15), District 7**

Juniper sighed as she heard the tempo coming on. It was the unique thing that was important to her. This was one thing Juniper loved. Becoming a renowned dancer.

A renowned dancer was everything she would become when she matured more. Flickering across in bright spotlights on many stages throughout the districts. To travel in a blink of an eye district to district. To perform complicated dance moves that would urge the citizens go oh and aww at the sight of her. She couldn't commemorate life without dancing. From being an awkward kid that was always staying in the shadows, to someone who was popular for doing something that brought happiness to others including herself. Juniper, however, recalled how she became who she was from the day her school decided to do dance glass for somatic education when they were only five years old. She treasured it and continued in her own time.

She pirouetted across the room blindly, hoping that her position would be adept so she didn't have to worry about it any longer. Sadly, Juniper missed and tumbled down until she reached the turquoise rug and left out a painful gasp. She tried flexing her ankle but winced when pain shot up and blinded her with stars. _Well damn, this isn't adequate,_ Juniper thought to herself.

"You okay?" The escort, Aelin inquired. She sounded so concern but Juniper rolled her eyes. The escorts were flamboyants and didn't care who they escorted as long as the escort brought home a Victor. She didn't know why Aelin would actually care to see if she was going. Conceivably that tumble was louder than she previously thought.

"Oh yeah, I'm just fine," Juniper answered, lacing her tone with sarcasm as she stood up trying to walk away the pain; which often never helped but she pretended she was was a good word for no one to question anyone further, course people were blinded by the word "fine."

She opened the door, careful to conceal the shooting pain in her ankle. She paddled towards to the next cart where she recognized four mentors and her three other district partners. The escort's heels clipping across the clear floor, making a rhythm she wanted to dance but she was too hurt to do so.

"Alright, anyone possesses any talent that could make them useful in the arena?" One of the mentors, Petunia sated. Her usual long brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her warm eyes seemed to possess bags under them. _She probably hasn't slept in a while because of this_ , Juniper concluded as she made her way with a wince as she put her weight onto her ankle. "Speak up before we separate you to have a mentor to guide you."

"Um, I have a reputation of dancing," Juniper voiced up, making eight pairs of eyes turned to her."I usually dance for supplies and practice a lot. Since tempo is a good cause, it could help me being agile and quick on my feet."

"We'll talk more later," Petunia concluded. _Well fun._

* * *

 **Rosa Ray (14), District 7**

Rosa doodled on a piece of paper she found lying around. It at least kept her busy. When she came back home, she could sell more of her paintings for money; possibly giving Alice more paintings she drew to keep her income coming. Her hand touched her necklace that she wore that had a small broche connected to it; a memory that Alice and her brother had a pottery lesson together and it was her first result to which Alice gave it to her.

It was calming to have her imagination fill the blank of the white paper. She made scales of mermaid's tails and the deep ocean water that the mermaids reside in, in her stories that her mother came. Good for little kids, good for income. At least if she ever wins this, she won't really have to worry about developing many paintings to promote. Many of her paintings sold too low for her confront but money was money and she usually invested it on food to help her and her family to survive.

She was an artist and drew whatever came to mind. Rosa didn't care if it was too absurd for her to promote. Along the way, Rosa encountered countless people mostly people complimenting her about her job. Usually paid too little to acquire her paintings which she more than welcomed too. It was nice being noticeable about her hard work in producing her artwork, once an art museum wanted to buy her painting and she more than happily obliged. It brought in her lots and fed her family for weeks; enough for her to buy her supplies to paint.

Rosa stood up, and poured herself a glass of wine or she hoped it wasn't like Rosa was an alcoholic or anything. She appreciated the occasional drinks or her cigarettes often because of some peer pressure and she became addicted to it. To her, it made her artwork more dark but she didn't care. All she wanted was to have a few shots before she finished a paper drawing of her recent artwork.

"Aren't you too young to drink?" someone called out. He had raven black hair with his glassy blue eyes shining right at her. She recognized him as Blue-one of her district partner. She also recognized him for his eyes as it seemed to haunt her every day. He urged her to paint a picture to place inside his locket, a year prior. She also remembered the cigarette he offered her at the bar they always met at. The friendship that blossomed years ago. A recognizable face in the crowd of strangers.

"You shouldn't be talking, Blue," Rosa replied with a smirk on her pale features. "You do it also and plus I wanted one."

"Don't you always," he snarked back. "Don't drink too much or you'll die before you even reach the pedestal."

"I know, not that ludicrous," she retorted.

* * *

 **Vivian Willows (16), District 7**

Vivian gazed at the countryside, watching the untouch hills and evergreen trees pass by. She had nothing else to do but watch through the windows. She fiddled with her leather bracelet, Rosie gave to her before she left crying in tears. Vivian wanted to cry but at the same time, what was the point? She knew she had a legitimate chance with all her ahletciness and she could win this.

"I'm astonished that you're not with your district partners," someone interrupted her train of thoughts. She would miss the district, her brothers and her friends if she had to admit it despite their girliness that was increasingly annoying to her.

"Yeah, comprehensively, I don't feel like communicating to them as we're already just on our way to one big happy place," Vivian stated. "The Hunger Games are extremely fun, don't you know."

"Your sarcasm is extremely appreciated," The same, masculine voice said. She turned around to see a boy looking about ten years older judging from his somnolent expression and his midnight brown eyes met hers. "I ponder why I'm still doing this when I haven't even brought someone home besides the the thirteen year old." Vivian recognized who he was discussing about, Peony Askerd sadly she didn't had to come to mentor this year.

"Obviously."

"Do you know what your strategy is for the Hunger Games?" He asked.

"Mostly," she replied.

"Good, I have a feeling that you're competent to make it far," He replied. At least some mentor told her she had a fighting chance. Maybe spending time outdoors or wrestling her brothers (which it was fifty-fifty that she won) was actually a good thing. He wouldn't look down at the part that she was a girl which sometimes mentors sometimes ignore the female tributes in some years.

* * *

 **Blue Flametale (15), DIstrict 7**

Blue let out a puff of smoke as the breeze of the train passing by the districts, on its way to the district. He didn't care whether he was vigorous or not anymore. He just wanted to die sometimes but yet here he was, going to some shitty place; becoming a tribute into the Hunger Games where what was expected of him was to make a good show towards the Capitolites. What's so good about bloodshed and so.

"Your going to damage your lungs if you do that," a feminine voice who he hadn't recognized indicated to him. He glanced at her and stared back at the window. He didn't care anymore. That was why he went to the bar in the first place. A barren bar that held all the smokers and drunks who didn't care anymore, that where he met Rosa.

"Don't care," He replied back.

"You don't carry about your health?" The mentor, Fiona inquired. "Alright... listen here kid, I have been in the same place where you endure, years ago when I was about fifteen. I went the wrong way, and I literally almost died from a heart attack but luckily the Capitol gave me a transplant instead."

"So?" He said. "I simply don't care anymore. I wanted to be reaped. I have nothing to look forward to at home, anyways."

"Fine," she huffed and deserted him alone. He enjoyed the silent abyss. It conveyed comfort to him, at least he didn't have to hear the painful cries of his mother whenever his father was at. She drank herself into oblivion and didn't bother what Blue did. Ronald did though, but he wasn't here now. His only friend, though. His district hated him, and they were proud he was gone. His ex-girlfriend, Luciana, and ex-friend, Max, even laughed at him while he looked at the escort dumbfounded that he was even reaped.

Ronald made his world shine up but didn't help his depressing thoughts or being suicidal on some days. He was just a friend who actually realized how much he was worth. It was nice, though. Even Ronald's parents cared for him like a son but Blue just felt awkward around them. He was possibly frightened of getting close to anyone in case they might abandon him and leave him alone surrounded by his thoughts.

* * *

 **I'm not going in order for train rides but everyone is going to get a train ride POV. I'll be going on spring break soon so I should be updating frequently, if I actually have the inspiration to write. Somehow, I think what happened this week got rid of the writer's block I was experiencing. My ex-friends actually did something, scary (as they have the nerve to mock me or yell at me either way). Which POV is your favourite?**

 **I have a blog for this story:** randomizetributes. blogspot 2018/03/ blog-post. html (delete the spaces)


	26. Train Rides: District 8

**Lacey Weaver (12) D8F**

"This is amazing!" Lacey yelled as soon as she stepped into the train. She had known that the world was a beautiful place, but she had always thought that her father was one of the richest people around. She had no idea that the Capitol simple things, like trains, could possibly be so much more elegant and gorgeous than the home she had once known. "We get to stay here?"

"It's a goodbye gift. 'Sorry we're killing you, here's some candy!'" Yarnn replied, quickly stepping across the car they had just entered in search of her own room. Lacey stared up at her in confusion. The Capitol wasn't the one saying goodbye to her, it was the District, and this train car was provided by the Capitol.

"What do you mean they're killing us?" Lacey asked, running to catch up with the much taller sixteen-year-old. "We get to live in the Capitol now, right?"

Yarnn looked down at Lacey with eyes full of pity. "You really don't know much about the Games, do you?" she asked Lacey, slowly realizing that the girl wasn't faking her optimism. She really thought everything was all right.

Lacey shook her head. "Mom said that the Reaped tributes get to live in the Capitol. She said they never got to see their families again unless they won some huge competition, but it was dangerous, so I should avoid it. So I'll just stay here!"

"That's not an option. In about two weeks, all of us are going to be fighting. It's going to be long, and hard, and whoever lives the longest gets to come home. Sorry to break it to you like that, but you need to go in prepared," Yarn said, thinking she could have put it more calmly. Lacey shook her head.

"That's impossible! They couldn't just kill little kids like that. You've got to be lying to me," Lacey said, but her eyes were watering up. Suddenly, it clicked in her mind why that girl had been so scared at the Reaping. Suddenly, all the crying that happened every year made perfect sense. She was being thrown into the realization that the Capitol was a place of horrors, and the candies really were a death gift.

"How about you come to my room?"

* * *

 **Yarnn Ashen (16) D8F**

"You see, this happens a lot. Everybody has seven chances to get Reaped. Some people say six, but you have to include twelve and eighteen. Anyways, now that we're been Reaped, we have to go to the Parade, and then we get to train. We get a week of training. Then we have to go to the interviews and private sessions, where we get a score. Then we go into the Games, where we have to fight to live. We have to get our own supplies, and we have to try and kill everyone else," Yarnn explained to Lacey, who was crying on the couch. Yarnn frowned. She didn't want to hurt the child that much.

"It all makes so much sense now. My parents were so scared when I got Reaped," Lacey said, between sobs. "I'm going to die."

"Not necessarily! You might be able to get some good allies, and people like to send gifts to the tributes. That's us. And two people get to live this year! Usually it's only one," Yarnn said, deciding not to include the fact that Lacey was up against so many more people than normal. That would just crush the kid even more than she already had.

"I guess. But what's the point of trying? I'm like half as tall as you are, and there were a ton of people. I saw some of the recaps," Lacey said, lying on the bed dejectedly. Yarnn moved over to her.

"You know, while we're on the train, we can't very well train. We may as well enjoy ourselves, and I hear that Capitol candy is like heaven on Earth," Yarnn said, hoping Lacey didn't remember her previous comment about candy.

"You said those were death gifts."

"But they won't kill us faster!" Yarnn said, faking the same optimism she had thought Lacey was faking minutes earlier. "C'mon. Let's just see... We can order candy over here, and there it comes!" Yarnn pressed a bunch of buttons, hoping to get a bunch of candy. Sure enough, various types of chocolates and sweets came pouring out of a tube on the wall.

"That's more chocolate than I get in a year," Lacey said, popping a handful into her mouth.

"That's more chocolate than I've had in my life."

* * *

 **Damask Rockwell (18) D8M**

"Well, I could get used to this!' Damask said, settling himself in the room. He had wanted to comfort the crying girl - Lacey, he thought her name was - but Yarnn was already talking to her, and he thought he might intimidate the child. She was so small, and he was so much bigger. Besides that, he was a boy, and she was a girl. That automatically made it harder to have a discussion than it could have been. Instead of getting involved in all that drama Damask decided to sit in his room and plan for the near future.

Reclining on his bed, Damask tried to figure out how to turn on the television. He pressed buttons wildly, moving his bed, changing the tint of the window, turning on and off multiple lights, and finally flipping the television on. He set the remote down after that, figuring that he'd stumble upon his true goal, the Reaping recaps, later, and not wanting to mess anything else up. He perked up a bit when he realized that all that was playing was recaps, and he tried to assess every tribute that came on the screen.

 _Volunteer from One. Surprise, surprise. Girl seems confident. Boy was Reaped? Not volunteered for. Contender, no point in trying to ally with either. Next. All volunteers. One crazy thirteen-year-old. RIP, dude. Couldn't you wait? Why am I even watching these recaps? Careers won't ally. Next. Two girls from three. One shaky, one confident. Oh dear. Maybe the confident one will be cool. Dude seems cool enough. Maybe he's seeking allies? Even if he's not, there are a lot of contenders. Four. Skip. Five. Girl does not look okay. Hopefully the Capitol will patch her up. Not a solid ally. Dude seems pretty strong. Maybe he's ally-worthy. Already through five Districts? This is boring._

Damask's thoughts were scattered while he watched the Reaping recaps. There were so many things to be worried about that he could hardly make himself look at the screen, much less pay his complete attention to it. His job required attention, but that was low-stress. His life hadn't been on the line there for years. Now one wrong move could kill him, and he couldn't even stare at a screen.

* * *

 **Check out the blog anytime:** **randomizetributes. blogspot 2018/03/ blog-post. html (Delete the spaces)**

 **Chapter written by Silver**


	27. Train Rides: District 5

**Twyla Zahavyin (16), District 5**

Twyla wasn't frightened as she stepped onto the train, she wore a smile because she was finally leaving. Abandoning the district. Withdrawing her life behind, leaving her abusive stepmother. She knew she was going to die and embraced it. Twyla didn't want to return back home ever. Conceivably she can escape the arena but that only happened a few times and no Capitolites could actually be forgiving or kind.

She didn't care anymore whether she died or not. She spent her whole life living in darkness wishing she was dead but never actually wanting to commit to suicide. Suicide was a permanent solution to temporary problems, and this was just a critical problem. Twyla had nightmares of the event with Ronnie dying in the heat with her getting her plate-sized scar on the back of her neck.

Twyla was just tired of everything.

"So do you want to be allies?" Her district partner, Brandon asked. She didn't bother glancing at him as she stared into space. She wanted to retreat back into the endless darkness, knowing that no one would bother talking to her to observe if she was alright. She was just fucking done with it all.

"I don't know. Candidly, I really can't trust you," She replied in a bitter, distant voice. She barely heard the three pairs of footsteps extending their way. Twyla wanted to escape, leave and hope Brandon neglected her by the time they approached the Capitol. It was the truth. Twyla wanted a trustful ally that wouldn't kill her while she slept on the cold, grassy ground of the arena (if there was grass) though. Arenas were different every year and every year she almost wished she was reaped. "For all I know, you would stab me while I lay blissfully looking up at the sullen sky, watching the tributes faces flash."

"Alright Miss Zahavyin, I guess I have to earn your trust." Twyla winced as he stated her last name. Her surname was the only that tied her to her monster of a stepmother, compelling her feel like a property. Something to display which Twyla stopped using her surname years ago before Ronnie died in the fire.

"Do me a favour, don't call me Zahavyin again."

* * *

 **Brandon Alderwood (17), District 5**

Brandon always wanted a family. Someone that cherished him and would cry when he did something extraordinary. Someone to get angry at him if he did something he shouldn't have done. At least feel loved and not be unwanted. Nothing was known about his family only that he just lived in a community home with all the youngsters lived with their happy smiles as they got adopted. Brandon was just simply too old to get adopted. He wasn't young, almost reaching to his adulthood. Maybe if he was younger but he didn't want to be young. Sure, Amelia's parents were nice and all but he still felt like a black sheep that Amelia took pity on and would invite him over to her house.

Brandon pursued all his life to even deserve some respect. He was always forgotten. He dreamed about having other friends besides Amelia, a family. Everything that would never happen because he was simply too elderly. He was too young to become a power plant worker and he only had a few months before he turned eighteen where he would be kicked on the streets. He didn't know how to survive besides fighting since living in a community home was tough with hundreds of wards.

"These two are our tributes… Verily, why couldn't we get strong tributes who actually has a decent chance on winning," a feminine voice grumbled. He heard a few pair of footsteps approaching. He didn't want to look up, it was only him and his district partner, Twyla Zahavyn if he recalled correctly.

"Catherine, you may be under strong medication to help with your visions but at least be nice. Imagine that you're working with children on a challenging music."

"That's not the point!" She lashed out. "I just want to bring home a victor so I could not go delirious… Ooh, look a giraffe consuming a snake."

Brandon turned and glanced at a jubilant face that had a wild look in the woman's eyes but he assumed it was Catherine, one of the mentors.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Catherine, here, wouldn't move as she cried that we would sink if we dared to move," The other mentor said, sounding exhausted. Brandon figured that he was exhausted of having to deal with Catherine. He wasn't sure how many mentors they had this year but hopefully, one of them could assist him and maybe Twyla also. "I'm Michael, one of the districts five victors… Do you two have any special skills before we divide you off to help you separately?"

Brandon liked the mentor. He gave off an 'I will help you if you want my help' vibe but remained silent. He didn't want his district partner to murder him later, and she gave off a closed vibe.

* * *

 **I somehow retained at least some writing inspiration as I wrote this because quite frankly, I just haven't been feeling in the right mindset lately. Maybe, I think the last two weeks just got me that I'm unable to write anything. Let me know who's still reading (besides Silver and FHR)**


	28. Train Rides: District 9

**Autumn Fields (13) D9F**

"Wow. This is a really nice train. Is all of this velvet? And they have wheels on some of the chairs. Does this pull into itself? That's an interesting idea. Such simple technology, but it really gets the job done," Autumn said, admiring the train. The train was a work of art, but she was more interested in the works of tools. All of the fancy wheels and cool buttons were things that could be pretty useful in the fields of Nine.

"Yep! It can save space that way. Personally, I think it was a dumb addition. Nobody ever wheels in that chair," Adonis Wilkens, the escort, said. Autumn didn't care. Anything she could see in the Capitol and learn from was a potential improvement to her District, assuming she ever made it back there.

"Do you have a plan yet? I've seen you around the fields, and you seem cool. I hope you don't die," Autumn said to Dan. He jumped when she spoke to him, and stared at her for a couple of seconds.

"Did I say something wrong? I wasn't trying to be dark. I really do hope you don't die," Autumn continued, not sure how to handle this situation. Autumn didn't consider herself an awkward person, but there weren't many options that weren't awkward when someone just stared at you.

"Hm? No. Not at all. I guess I'm just not used to all this," Dan said, slowly. Autumn figured he was making sure he said the right thing, which she could understand. She thought of his personality as a juxtaposition to hers. Dan rarely smiled, and he generally seemed to see the downsides of situations. He was quiet, and calm, and he seemed to think everything true. Meanwhile, Autumn considered herself an optimist. She smiled all the time, chatted to obnoxious extents, and was more hyper than he was. It made sense that she would almost ruin a relationship before it began and he would take a while to reply.

"It is a big deal, but we kinda have to keep our heads in the game. We only get a little bit to plan, and we should try to find allies, and sponsors, and make a game plan... Really, it's important that we get started right away," Autumn said, trying her best not to ignore how big the situation was. Dan had a point, and she wasn't trying to ignore that. She was just trying to strategize.

* * *

 **Dan Grant (15) D9M**

"It would go a lot more quickly if we allied," Dan suddenly said. He didn't know what prompted the words to go out. He was normally a loner. Everyone he met was a backstabber. Yet here he was, in a situation where that term could easily be used literally, and he was being spontaneous and dumb. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't regret that. Autumn had been nice to him every time they met. She talked to him a little bit, and never looked down on his position. He also knew how good it would feel to have someone watching his back, even if it was just because she was in more danger once he died.

"I guess it would," Autumn replied, clearly surprised. Dan knew why. He was out of character. That was a fact of life.

"What do you think we should focus on?" Dan asked, knowing how important it was that they agreed. They would get nowhere if they argued constantly.

"Well, you're a lot bigger than I am. You should be the main force, like weapons or something. I didn't do too much heavy lifting in Nine," Autumn said. It looked like she was thinking on her feet, which Dan respected. That could be a useful skill. "And I could focus on survival. And traps, I guess. I like mechanical things. I suppose that sounds silly, coming from Nine..."

"It doesn't! It's not like there are no Three kids who want to sew," Dan said, not wanting Autumn to be upset. He couldn't have his ally thinking he didn't value her, but he also genuinely didn't want her to be upset. _Is this what happens when people are actually nice to you? How long does it take to get attached to someone?_

"Well, thanks. I guess that's true. You're probably really smart, then. Since people stick out. Not that you seem stupid, or anything. It's just that you got less schooling, and field work is hand work," Autumn said. At that statement, Dan found himself chuckling. Autumn was stumbling over her own words to get a point across, something that he didn't hear often. She cared enough about her point and the receiver that she would embarrass herself to get it right.

 _You'd better not get attached too quickly. One of you will die._

* * *

 **I haven't forgotten the old woman thing in Dan's pre-reaping but that would be explain in the Capitol. We have 7 left. I'll try to get district 6 and 12 in but inspiration is spotchy and doesn't last long.**

 **If people are confused here's who'se writing the train chapters.**

 **Fire: 5, 6,7, 12**

 **Silver: 8,9,10,11**

 **Flying Hamburger Rider: 1,2,3,4**

 **Go vote on the poll for this story**


	29. Train Rides: District 12

**Train Rides: District 12**

 **Raven Wells (12), District 12**

Raven looked at the buffet table where he almost grinned. It reminded him of home even though there was many abusement going on. He did anger his father for messing up the recipe but it was fun. Escaping peacekeepers was also fun, but he was surprised he didn't get killed.

"Why aren't you eating?" His district partner, Jaycee commented. He heard the scraping of a fork against a plate. "It's adequate food and makes me miss home."

"I'm just not hungry," he replied in a muffled voice. It was true, he didn't seem to have an appetite for the delicious food. He could recognize some of the food: Strawberries, chocolate cookies, cakes in general. He had some of those food before, but it was before he messes everything up. He was the baker's son after all. A pathetic excuse of a son who couldn't make the recipe correctly. He remembered the stinging after his father had slapped him repeatedly because of the mess.

"You're the baker's son, aren't you?" Jaycee asked in a kind voice that reminded him of Rose. "I'm Jaycee and was wondering if you want to become an ally?"

Raven shook his head no, "Sorry… I'm not looking for any allies. The games are easier if you're alone and don't have to defend someone else's life."

"Okay… I guess that's fine." Jaycee tried to hide her disappointment before she returned to her looking composed but the sadness in her eyes remained.

* * *

 **Jaycee Farmark (17), District 12**

Jaycee sat casually on the sofa was she watched the boring reapings. She took account of the competitors mainly from the careers because they were unquestionably in a confident, determined mindset which she didn't mind. Jaycee wanted to win to go back to her family and help around her family's shop. Maybe earn some more money than what she was used to, to afford things besides food.

Even though she wasn't from the seam, she never seemed to obtain any money. The money she brought in went to food, and she could remember her stomach rumbling during the night because she was starving for food. There just wasn't any food for anyone to eat without going a day without food. A middle-class citizen.

District 3 was interesting but nothing caught her attention. The seventeen-year old, someone around her age looked conflicted judging from her posture. She probably had someone who she had to take care of. Seventeen and looked frightened was an odd mix but she looked healthy. Wasn't a starved look. Jaycee skipped over the district four reapings as she knew careers would ally with careers. Five reaped two people, one around her age but none looking positively sure about winning neither was any of the districts.

It almost looked like she wasn't finding anyone she wanted to ally but this was just the reapings. Conceivably the people weren't so bland and had a frightened or ecstatic look. She could remember the crying girl from eleven who looked to sfrightened of her own shadow.

"There you are!" The escort cried out. "I'm Orellia Bubblewood and am so excited to escort and mentor you to the most fabulous place in Panem… The Capitol!"

Jaycee remained quiet as she observed the escort with her crazy and annoying personality drone on and on about the astonishing things.

"Allying or no?"

"I can't find any allies that I want, and Raven told me he doesn't want any."

"Fabulous… I could hook you up with Adonis' tributes, Cassiopeia's tributes, Liz's tributes, seven and six tributes. I can't remember the escorts names as we barely talked but we're all excited to finally meet our tributes," Orellia called out in a high-pitch voice. "I don't think you want to ally with annoying Lilian. Blue-boy Neptune or silent Andy… Those three are the career's escorts."

Jaycee declined, and Orellia let out a scream. Possibly for excitement.

"Fabulous."

* * *

 **I know it was a short train ride for District 12 but there wasn't much detail on there forms for me to write them in regaling detail. For those who are reading, please pm me what allies you want for your characters. It would be helpful and I'll put them on the blog also.**

 **Blog:** **randomizetributes. blogspot 2018/03/ blog-post. html** (delete the spaces)

 **Go vote on the poll for your favourite tributes.**


	30. Train Rides: District 2

**Train Rides: District 2**

 **Lime Malachite – District 2**

"I'm so scared Dad."

Lime sobbed into Lapis' chest, his hands scrunched up in the folds of his father's shirt. "I don't want to go, I, I, take it back."

Lime sobbed louder. He wondered if Ivy could hear his screams, had heard him as he had pounded his fists on the wall when he realized what he'd just condemned himself for.

Death.

"Son," Lapis whispered, crouching down to Lime's head. He cupped Lime's smooth chin in his own calloused hands. "I love you, you know that?"

Lime nodded through a haze of tears.

"I love - love you too." He choked out. He wondered how Finnick had felt. Had he cried? Screamed? Sobbed?

"And I haven't been the best father - oh Lime - you deserved so much better." Lapis wiped his son's eyes his a browned finger.

Lime's siblings slipped through the door, herded in by a Peacekeeper; "You have two minutes." He said, closing the door behind his mother. Lapis glanced away from Lime as the door closed, turning wet eyes to Agate. Lime's mother stood with a gurgling Amethyst in her arms, her green eyes glassy and her features neutral. Lime retreated from his father's grasp and approached his youngest sibling.

"She's going to be so proud of her big brother." Lime whispered, brushing black hair back from her eyes. He felt calmer now, everything he had whispered to himself that night before flooding back. He laughed darkly. He was going to be the youngest victor.

Or die trying.

Amber squished his shoulder. "I'm proud too Lime. Youngest Victor ever. Quite an achievement." Lime reached up to take her hand in his.

"That's right, I'm coming back Amber, and I'm coming back with that crown on my head."

Amber grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Luster, 5, gripped him around the waist. "I love you," He blubbered, "I love you, I love you, I love you." Lahar joined his younger brother at his Lime's side, burying his face in Lime's jacket. Lapis pressed a hand to Lime's shoulder as the boy looked up, trying to meet his mother's eyes.

"Mum?"

Agate didn't answer, Peacekeepers demanding they leave before she could. His siblings went first, Amber herding her wailing siblings away. You could see the slump of her shoulders.

"Goodbye Lime." Agate whispered, following.

Lime looked to his father. "Dad?"

"Every night before I go to bed I say, Thank God for Lime."

A Peacekeeper coughed, pointing to the door; Lime didn't move.

"Because what would I do without him? What would I be?" Impatient, the Peacekeeper grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him to the door. "Nothing. Without you I will be nothing."

"So goodbye my son; I'll see you on the other side."

The door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

 **Ivy Butler – District 2**

The leaf's edges cut through the pads of her fingers like paper, sycthing through humanitie's only protection easily. That's why Ivy had started training. That sudden realization that she was absolutely helpless had bought everything into a brutal perspective. She'd spent the rest of the day hacking at the old birch in the garden. The tree was still stained with the memory of her raw and bleeding fists crunching into the wood.

Her father hand found her into the garden, sobbing as she clutched her broken hands to her chests. And later that night, as he'd bandaged them up he'd whispered into her ear, "If you're going to learn to fight, you are going to learn to be the best fighter ever."

And how she'd proved him right. No Butler had ever before gone to the Academy before. No Butler had been the best in the entire school.

No Butler had ever won the Games.

Until now.

Her grandpa had been the one to tie the leaf around her neck in his dying moments; "I trust no other with its protection."

Ivy had looked at all the family albums, finding the leaf around the neck of the strongest Butler of each generation. Turns out she wasn't the first Butler to go to the Games though.

Evaline Butler, died in the 76th Games, 2nd place. It made Ivy's stomach churn. Her ancestor had been in the 76th Hunger Games, the most brutal and bloody Games throughout all its history. Ivy had watched the recording of Evaline's Games. She thrown up twice. Once when the eventual Victor had carved out the innards of his victim and set them over the fire to eat and twice when Evaline had died; split open by the necklace around Ivy's own neck. Looking close at the metal she could see the blood staining the rusted leaf. She'd put it in her pocket after that.

But now in the train she bought it back out.

I'm going to be better than you Evaline. I'm going to win.

She'd sat down on the couch with Lime to watch the Reapings from the other Districts. It was almost fun, discussing each tribute with Lime. Of course she kept the more advantageous stats she had found to herself, Lime was to die after all. They started with 12 and worked their way down. In the mix she found a few possible allies, but she'd had to assess their mental worth beofre making any further desisions.

Lime had invited her to dinner with him, but she'd declined, instead retreating to her room to watch highlights of previous Games – starting from the 1st Games ever. Ivy kept a bucket by the bed. The bucket was already half full with vomit and her pants were wet from those particularly gory moments in the 27th and 56th Games.

But she didn't look away once.

Not even for a second.

* * *

 **Alkali Mori (18), District 2**

"So, what are you good at?" The male inquired which Alkali barely refrained herself from rolling her eyes at the person. It seemed like he was the trainer that clearly doubted her abilities in edible plants. Edible plants were such a waste compared to her sharp blades.

"How do you not know?" Alkali snapped at him, "Didn't you spend your days at the academy before you volunteered?"

"Well, yeah…" He uttered, "I only came here because the head wanted me too and I hoped I could be the first thirteen year old to win from district two."

"I'm good with knives," She boasted. Alkali loved her knives especially if the assistant wanted her to volunteer. Deadly and swift was what she required, to kill her victims in a swift manner so she could become a victor from District 2. She wouldn't die just like the other weaklings did.

Long ago, she wanted nothing to do with the academy nor the Hunger Games. How quickly things changed back then. From the optimistic, adolescent child who believed in anything. She was just too ecstatic and energetic of excitement that believed in everything. She wasn't ignorant, but she could comprehend the struggles. Now years later, she didn't want anything to do with her young, stupid self for hating the games. The Hunger Games were everything.

Her parents enrolled her in the academy when she was ten. Ten. It was just a precaution in case she was ever reaped, which she now obligied. _It soon became her hobby. Her life was next._ She loved learning and became a killing machine with her throwing knives. No, she would win and kill innocents to win.

 _Another eighteen-year-old content about throwing her life away._

She didn't care. I would win this, she thought to herself.

That was a promise she would fulfil.

* * *

 **District 2 train rides. How did you like it? I'm going to leave this author note short because I'm starving.**

 **Go vote on the poll if you have't already!**


	31. Train Rides: District 6

**Train Rides: District 6**

 **Zircon Stardusk (15), District 6**

There was silence which Zircon relaxed it. Just utter, deathly silence which confronted him. No one was talking about him, about being the spawn of a peacekeeper. How he wasn't meant to be born and was taunted about it while he grew up with his family and his stepfather Volt. A dumb name if you asked him. All his life, he'd been taunted about being a peacekeeper son of whom he never met.

He'd been caught in many fights before but some hasn't generated a great deal of a damage. The fight he had earlier was fierce. Sure, he would win most fights but this one caught him off guard. Some people decided to corner him when he least suspected it; which caused a blackeye, along with bruises which he was confident would turn into an ugly shade of violet, and a split lip. He was almost crying in pain, but he had a high pain tolerance. He could still feel the faint kicks and punches the kids propelled him with but he ignored it the best of his ability.

"Welcome to the train, kids," the escort cried out which Zircon barely glanced at. He was nevertheless in shock that he got reaped. After all there was a low probability of getting reaped, smaller than the girls. "Those four are your mentors-Scott Bran, an unfriendly fellow if you asked me, Karou Sendres, Annabeth Sertori, and Lewis Meywether." Karou and Annabeth looked roughly the same age besides Zircon assumed the raven haired one was Karou, with the ebony locks seemed to be at Annabeth. Karou seemed to be missing an eye with a scar running down her dark features. Annabeth, however, had hazel coloured eyes that matched her hair, more on the fawn kind of side. Assuming that he was precise, Lewis was a middle-aged man with his locks turning into the colour of milk-white fog instead of the honey coloured.

"Alright kiddos," the raven-haired, green eye declared in a neutral voice. "I'm Karou, one of the youngest victors of District six. I won the 194th games and yeah. I'm not your buddy. I'm not a friend. I want a victor from district 6 again and this year, the Capitol is allowing two tributes to win so you better be damn thankful. So whoever has experience with hand-to-hand combat follow me."

"I'm Annabeth and yeah, I personally won the games about nine years ago which is a shocker that District 6 won for a few years. Intrinsically, I want to help you-blah-blah-blah… To cut through the chase is, we've mentors decided to train each of you separately. I'll be doing the smarts-book-smart, street-smart whatever because that's how I won."

Zircon didn't bother listening in on what the mentors were attempting to say as it just sounded like a rehearse speech that every single mentor seemed to know. It was quite boring and he just wanted to draw in his notebook but he felt the absence of the notebook that he carried around a lot. Doodling here and there to make it creative, with some destroying people kind of weapons in the back. What he craved for was to work on was more of a drawing instead of a prototype that could help Panem. A guy could dream.

"So, split up and go with your mentor," someone stated. Zircon stood up and followed the raven locks to where she was waiting impatiently when he finally arrived. She seemed like an impatient type of person.

"Let me see your stance, kid."

Zircon showed her his stance which all she died was made grunting noises and humming which didn't freak him out. This was a victor that wouldn't mess around. It seemed all she cared about was having another victor even though her victory only happened about three years ago when she was fourteen.

"If you work hard maybe you could win but I can't make any promises. You would need training in the survival areas and maybe the weapons if you have time. Make sure you aim low for your score, so that others don't target you early. I appreciate you and you seem like you could win."

"Thank you I guess," Zircon said.

* * *

 **Tera Hill Olcain (18), District 6**

Tera stared off at the distance. She imagined herself that she was off reading a book or wondering around in pure solitude, enjoying the bliss of the silene, but those moments came rare from the neighborhood she came from. The yelling of the countless gangs, mostly about the same thing, "where's the money?" or the heavy amount of peacekeepers littering the area. Keeping everyone from turning to violence, most likely. Sometimes, the peacekeepers turned a sightless eye against the trouble that often arises.

Tera could recall the day she learned not to walk at night, alone without any self-defense. _Tera was walking through a few couple of alleys to make sure she arrived home before night officially set. She stayed out late, later than usual. The sun was already setting by time, with its shining bright rays casting almost a rainbow in the sky. Tera was reading Human Physics, and the subject fascinated her, but she didn't want to pursue a career in that subject. Her friend, Kiva urged her if she wanted to walk her home but she denied. Kiva lived in another neighborhood where there wasn't much activity of gangs or drug dealers, and it wasn't in Kiva's way home._

" _Are you sure?" Kiva asked, pushing her glasses up against her fountain eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt or anything."_

" _Kiva, I'm not inept about walking home in the dark. I'm dauntless about this," I replied to her._

" _I don't know," She managed to say in a languorous kind of voice."I just don't like you walking home, maybe walk home with me and my parents can give you a ride."_

" _Candidly, I'm going to be fine."_

Oh, how wrong she was. Tera stepped into the gloomy, cinder alley that had a putrefying smell coming from somewhere. Wrinkling up her nose in disgust, she made her way into the ally, ignorant that someone was following her for every footstep.

Once, Tera finally stopped and turned on her heels and saw a man with long dark hair with an endless dark pit for eyes loomed into her hazel eyes. The man smiled, a cruel one, and said, "Now what's a comely girl doing in the alley all alone in the dark."

" _None of your business," She growled out in which she was considering, "You'll be sorry when I indicate the peacekeepers about your imperious actions against an adolescent."_

Tera managed to get away, slamming her foot into his manhood which compelled him to yelp in pain.

Sometimes, she would think what would have happened if she didn't get away. Maybe killed or maimed but that lesson taught her go for the eyes. She was only about fourteen at the time, too busy striving to achieve the highest grade possible for one of the tests she didn't remember. Where did she get some of her street smarts? Mostly from the dangerous neighborhood she lived in.

Tera smiled fondly of what Kiva and Savera said before the peacekeeper pulled them out of the room as their visiting time was over, "Gouge out the eyes."That would help her in the fights she might get into. The eyes were the weakest, and it would cause the victims to go blind if enough pressure is applied to it which Tera isn't afraid to do it.

"How are you holding up?" The other female tribute-Clio Tracks, if she recalled well.

"I'm adequate," She responded. Tera didn't bother glancing at the pixie-haired girl who was at least a year or two younger than she was. "Not queer for tributes in the outer districts to perceive this way."

"Aww, you two want to ally or are you going paint each other nails?" Someone called out in a bitter tone. "Or at least that's what I remember girls doing, but I'm just an old man."

* * *

 **Clio Tracks (16), District 6**

Ze rested against the armchair, mostly snacking on the candy zir found. Dark chocolate to Mars Bars was delicious, and ze found some tasty treats along with. What's the point in going to the Hunger Games if you genuinely can't enjoy what the Capitol possesses to offer? Ze would rather put on a few excess pounds than eating lightly.

"Come join me," Ze called out, while ze peeled another wrapper of some candy which didn't seem to be like English or the print was too minuscule to read.

"Don't mind if I do," The boy said. Ze heard the scraping of a chair and a small sigh from his direction. "So what are you eating?"

"I'm not sure, it has a salty taste to it and it's a bit sour at the same time. I never tasted this kind of candy before, come to think of it. My sister took most of my candy away and ate it before I even had a chance," Ze responded in a modest voice. "What are your preferred pronouns… I'm just asking because I go by Ze on whatever gender I feel like."

"I go by he, so you don't have to worry about that, ze," he responded.

"Thank you."

There was an awkward silence between them, and the young boy was the first one to break the silence that loomed into the room, breathing into their souls. He responded, "Are you efficient at anything, ze?"

"Hiding if that counts," Ze responded. "My sister picks on me a lot so I spend most of my time eluding her. We're not in the training centre yet so I'm not sure of my skills."

"I'm good at combat mostly. I spend a lot of time in fights. So I could help you out," Zircon responded.

"I'd like that."

* * *

 **Well that's a last of mine. I'm sorry that Clio POV wasn't that long as the other two, but interacting with other tribute and eating candy is fun (not for me though). Four more Districts- District 3, 4, 10 and 11, but I have to wait until the other collaborators sends them in. I could focus on some other stories or write ahead, which either is fun.**

 **Go vote on the poll and blog is on profile or other chapters.**

 **What did you think of these?**


	32. Train Rides: District 10

**Sable Monarch (15) D10F**

 _Ironic. All these years killing cows. It was only a matter of time until I started killing people._ Sable couldn't stop herself from thinking about that odd fact while she walked onto the train. She knew "ironic" wasn't exactly the right word, but she never could remember what word she was supposed to use there. Coincidental? Humorous? Neither of those words were quite what she meant. She meant that it made perfect sense but also didn't. _Figures, I suppose._

 _To kill or not to kill? That is the question._ Sable thought she had heard a quote like that somewhere. It probably meant something. To her, it was becoming the very definition of her being. Should she kill people in order to keep herself alive? What made her more valuable than the others? What made her more valuable than the cows? Sable found that she didn't really have an answer to that question, and she figured she probably never would. It was a philosophical question, the type that mere outer-District people weren't supposed to consider. Still, she would have a lot more time to think about it if she was alive.

Slowly, Sable formulated a reason to stay alive. First of all, she wanted to. She also knew that she was worth as much as the other people, even if it made just as much sense that they were alive. Life would be unfair to someone, but there was no reason for her to make it unfair to herself. She could just sit back and see how the cookie decided to crumble. More importantly, a reason to stay alive, rather than not to die, she had to answer her questions. She had to decide what made it so that humans could eat cows and not feel bad. She had to decide why people could kill others to stay alive. She couldn't answer any of those questions if she was dead, and she definitely wanted to know the answer.

 _Still, let's not find the answer just yet._ With her questionable thinking, as soon as she answered that question, Sable didn't have to live. That wouldn't matter in Ten. In Ten, life wasn't a constant battle. It would matter during the Games. One moment of questioning herself and she was dead. That being said, she had to do everything she could to avoid answering any important questions she had for herself until the Games were over. _All right. I guess philosophy is dead for now._

* * *

 **Gabriella Wesley (15) D10F**

 _This is not how this was supposed to go._ Ruined makeup was supposed to be the worst thing that could happen to Gabriella on the Reaping day. Being Reaped was entirely out of the question. She never took tesserae, and she never rebelled. She never did anything that could make her chances of being Reaped higher than anyone else's. And yet she found herself walking onto a train to be shipped of to the Capitol, ready to fight to the death. _This is unacceptable._

"Hey! I'm Collidora. I'll be mentoring you, Fresia, and Sable. In order to do that, I'll need to know some of your strengths and weaknesses. We can decide how to get you sponsors, and where you should train. Sound simple enough?" Collidora asked Gabriella. Gabriella flipped my hair.

"I already know how I'm going to get sponsors. I'm going to be the prettiest tribute there, and everyone will be dying to sponsor me. Worst comes to worst, I can go swimming - obviously not undressing all the way, but showing off my legs - and parachute after parachute will come tumbling down. It'll be as easy as that. These Games are in the bag," Gabriella replied, snark in her voice. Collidora looked at her for a second, thinking, before replying.

"All right. Now we need to discuss some of your strengths and weaknesses. Obviously, your brain and your common sense are your weaknesses. Your richness isn't a strength anymore. We're all equals in the Capitol. So, what are you strengths?"

"I told you. My biggest strength is my beauty. Even without proper makeup, I'm still the prettiest girl around. Wait a second, how dare you insult me like that! I am one of the best people in my District. I am an aristocrat! Even if I'm equal to people in makeup, I am still above them! I am educated! I'm not some uncultured swine, like the rest of these tributes. To even insinuate!" Gabriella yelled, completely taken aback that anybody could be so rude. Collidora rolled her eyes and left.

"Your social skills are also a weakness," Collidora called out behind herself as she walked away. "Maybe if you fix those you'll have a mentor."

* * *

 **Gary Johnson (17) D10M**

 _You've trained day in and day out for this. You have everything you can have. You've stared death in the eye and spat on it. You've won against people twice your size. You are going to win this thing. You are going to get first or second, at least. That's why you volunteered. Gotta bring money to your mother. Gotta get rid of your no-good dirty-rotten stealing father once and for all._ Gary spoke to himself for a long time while he got onto the train. He was trying to steel himself for the Games, and push away any fear that he could. He didn't have time to worry about anything other than living, and he couldn't risk worrying too much about that.

Once on the train, Gary stood around for a while, trying to adjust to his surroundings before dropping his guard. He didn't always do that. His dad always made a scene when he walked into the house, and his dad was the only person he looked out for, so he didn't have to. He just figured that he should get used to always looking over his shoulder before he went into the Games, rather than risking messing up in them. _Training has to be all the time now. In your body when not in your mind. In your mind when not in your body._

Finally, Gary sat down. He sat on the edge of his seat, ready to jump up at a moment's notice. He wanted to be constantly on guard, just like he would be in the Arena. He jumped when someone walked into the room he was in, the calmed down when he recognized it as Collidora. He jumped again when another person walked into his room, then calmed again when he recognized it as Rocky.

"All right. I'm Rocky. I'm here to discuss your strengths and weaknesses. Obviously, you need to know those. You also need to know how to get sponsors. Which do you want to focus on first?" Rocky asked Gary.

"I want to focus on sponsors. I already have basic training for the Games," Gary replied.

"All right. What do you have to offer? Are you hot? Will you make it worth their time? Are you really funny? Will you be cute when you get gifts? Got a sob story? Likely to be a Victor? Throw something at me."

"I have a sob story. I volunteered to get my family away from my abusive father. We need money for that, and the protection I'll get as a Victor," Gary said, completely nonchalantly. His father was a fact of life, nothing to get worked up over.

"Perfect. Use that to your advantage, and you'll have sponsors coming out of your ears. Probably. If you already have training, you're pretty set. Of course, I'll still help."

"That sounds great." _Then why am I so scared?_

* * *

 **Fresia Ford (18) D10F**

"What's your angle? How are you going to win this thing?" Collidora asked Fresia. She was sitting across from her mentee, leaning down with her hands draped over her knees. Fresia was mimicking her position, trying to focus on every word Collidora was saying.

"I'm not going to win this thing. I don't want to kill anyone, and I'm not going to become the monster the Capitol wants me to be," Fresia replied, not considering her answer for a second. That thought had been running through her head ever since she was Reaped. Her parents had tried to convince her that living wasn't a sin, but she knew they just wanted their kid to live. She wasn't going to question everything she knew, the very basis of what gave her life value, just to prolong something that was going to end in the long run anyways.

"That's a pretty solid point of view. It's pretty likely that you'll die, so you may as well die with pride. Might I ask why you're not even willing to try?" Collidora asked, intrigued. Most people who said that were either too weak for it too matter or too scared for it to be true. Fresia seemed entirely calm, not questioning herself at all while staring death in the eye.

"I'm a Christian. The Capitol won't really approve of that, but what are they going to do? Kill me? Anyways, in case you don't know what that has to do with anything, I believe in an afterlife. Death isn't that daunting anymore. More importantly, I believe that all people are made in the image of God. They're worth as much as I am, and I should treat them as worth more than I am. So, do you know anyone I should help win?"

"Not Gabriella, I can tell you that much. The little snob deserves a reality check. Anyways, if you're not even going to try to win, I should probably try to talk to Sable. I only have so much time with you all, and I need to keep moving. Good luck, don't mention your Christianity. You'll seem nice and get sponsors." Collidora walked out of the room while she was speaking, and Fresia nodded to all of her words. She made solid points.

 _So. Gabriella is a little snob? Sounds like somebody needs Jesus. Which room is she in?_

* * *

 **3 train rides left-3,4,11 now**


	33. Train Rides: District 11

**Alice Manah (12) D11F**

Alice walked onto the train, determination scrawled across her face. She knew that everyone she spoke to would say her chances of victory were slim. She knew that people would ignore her, or discredit her, in the Games, in the Training Center, and in life. She knew that, and she was willing to accept that. She was willing to accept that those people had opinions, but she knew that those opinions were wrong. She insisted to herself that she did have a chance, just like anyone else. Two people were coming out of the Arena, and she could be one of them.

In order to maximize her odds, Alice knew she would have to have a plan. She didn't know what the Arena was. There was no way for a tribute to know. She didn't know whether surviving or fighting would be her main priority. That just meant she would have to work on both. Maybe she'd end up in a house, and it wouldn't matter that she knew how to build a shelter, but maybe she'd end up in a desert. If ever there was a time to become a jack-of-all-trades, this was it. She decided that she would spread herself thinly over every single thing she could hope to learn, using logic to strengthen those traits once she was into the Arena. She might not learn anything, but it was a chance she would have to take.

 _Actually, let's limit this. What's least likely to pop up?_ She looked through previous Arenas, knowing how unlikely the Capitol was to loop right away. She ruled out a couple of biomes and took a guess that it would either be a desert, or it would be inside. _Well, that does you a lot of good._ Her life would either be entirely dependent on survival skills or it wouldn't matter at all. She had a fifty-fifty chance at ruining her chances completely. _Crud._

"You could cover a lot more things if you had an ally," a voice called from the door. Alice jumped. What all had this person seen? Did they know her entire plan?

"What makes you think I need to cover things? I always have a plan," Alice said, holding her voice steady. She was not going to look scared in front of this young girl.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought we could all use an ally," the girl, who Alice recognized as Bean, replied. She seemed pretty upset by her response, and Alice shrugged.

"Come on in, I guess."

* * *

 **Bean Brna (14) D11F**

 _I am going to die. Anytime now. It could be the second I step foot in the Arena. What on Earth?_ Death was never far away from people in Eleven, especially not people in the Home. Still, being Reaped made it that much more imminent. Now it lurked on Bean like a monster, and she wasn't sure she could handle it. She had cried a lot before she had managed to get her courage up enough to talk to anyone, and she was surprised by how harsh Alice was.

Still, Alice seemed apologetic, and Bean knew she needed allies. She sat beside the girl on a couch, relishing how soft the fabric was. Nothing like this was in Eleven, probably not even in the richer homes.

"Thanks for letting me stay. I get why you wouldn't want me as an ally," Bean said to the younger girl. It felt odd to her, admitting that she was weaker than a twelve-year-old, but she felt that it was true. Bean was small and timid, and Alice radiated fierceness. Bean knew she was right in her guess at the girl's personality, because it was hardly a guess.

"I just didn't want you to think I need an ally. You seem nice enough, but I thought you were calling me weak, at first," Alice replied, her tone matching Bean's. Her words were polite and quiet, far from what Bean had expected. Alice seemed like the type to shout in response to Bean's whispers.

"You seem strong. How do you think we should train for the Games?" Bean's two sentences weren't supposed to be connected, but she realized after she spoke them that they could come off that way. It sounded like the strength meant Alice should be the leader, when Bean just meant that Alice was strong.

"Well, you heard me talking about fifty-fifty. I'm guessing - my word isn't law, this is just a guess - that it's either going to be an inside Arena or a desert Arena this year, which means deaths will either come mostly from fighting or mostly from survival. If I'm right, that means fighting and survival knowledge will be key or worthless. I would have to take a wild guess."

"Do you know more about fighting or survival?"

"Hm... I don't know much about either, but I'm about your height, and I seem more agile. I should learn to fight, and you can learn survival, unless you'd prefer fighting," Alice said, measuring herself against Bean by sitting right next to her. Bean giggled. She didn't expect something so childlike from such a loud girl.

"You're giggling now, but the Careers won't be," Alice said, jokingly lowering her voice. Even she could recognize that she was a bit silly. Bean knew that Alice probably wouldn't get much farther than she would, with how small and immature she was, but she found herself not minding that. The world couldn't tie that girl down.

* * *

 **Chole Bell (15) D11F**

Chole sat across from her mentor, Lila, trying to figure out what the woman was thinking. Lila was just staring at her, her expressions remaining nearly still. Chole kept switching between guesses. Would the woman be nice? Would she be cruel? Would she just start barking out orders, or would she offer nice advice and actually try to learn about Chole? It could be anything, and Lila was hardly giving anything away. Chole squirmed under her gaze.

"You seem to be a smart kid. You're analyzing me pretty intently. What do you think one of your strengths is?" Lila asked. Her voice was strong and serious, but not aggressive. Chole appreciated that.

"I like trying to read people, so I have a little bit of experience there. I'm used to hunger, too," Chole replied, absentmindedly listing two strengths instead of one. Lila noticed that, but she didn't comment. She wanted another Victor, and if Chole wanted to march to the beat of her own drummer, that could happen.

"That's good. Keep trying to read people. I'd even dedicate some time to that, if I were you. After all, allies are a huge part of any Games."

"All right. I can do that. Do you know anything about the Arena? Or do you have any good guesses? Like, about what I should train," Chole said, her speech becoming less guarded. Lila didn't seem to be a jerk, so Chole wouldn't reciprocate that. If Lila was nice, Chole could be polite right back.

"Mentors are completely unaware of the upcoming Arena. It's against the rules for us to know. Anyways, I'd say you should focus on survival skills. You're too small to fistfight adeptly, and long-distance weapons take time to learn. If you do learn a weapon, you should go for something simple. Slings, bolos, stuff like that. They're easy." Chole noticed that Lila had given a direct command first, but now she had switched to advice. Chole liked that, and almost admired it. Lila was being nice. She was actually trying to be helpful. It would be valuable to have a mentor that actually cared.

"That makes sense. While, I will probably try to learn a basic... bolo? Is that what it's called? But you should probably go to the other girls. They need help too," Chole said, starting to walk off. She needed to try and think. She needed to try to learn what a bolo was.

* * *

 **Ace Johnson (17) D11M**

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Spencer," Ace said to the man who was waiting for me. Ace knew about him. Eleven only had so many mentors, so it wasn't hard for him to know both of them. He held his hand out to Spencer and Spencer shook it. Both of their grips were firm, but neither was crushing. Ace immediately decided that Spencer was a decent man. You could tell a lot about someone by their handshake.

"And you, Ace. I'm your mentor this year, as I'm sure you've guessed. Take a seat," Spencer said, sitting down on the luxurious couch of the train. Ace sat down beside him, smiling at the man. Spencer sat up straight, just like Ace did, and maintained eye contact, just like Ace did. "How do you want to train for the Games?"

Ace was a bit taken aback by that question. He had expected Spencer to start giving ideas, or at least asking him a bunch of questions. Here he was, presented with choices, when he hadn't made a choice for himself in a while. Khora had been making decisions for him for a full year.

"I think I'd rather learn how to survive and get sponsors. I really don't want to kill a bunch of kids," Ace said, staring into his lap. He knew that was a weakness. If you went into the Games unwilling to kill, you'd come out in a box.

"That's perfectly understandable, Ace," Spencer said, laughing a little. Ace felt like he could blush. He, an almost grown man, was being so unconfident in front of a man who just wanted to help. "People don't like killing people. It stinks. I would know. Now, surviving. Importance is either shelter, water, fire, food, or water, shelter, fire, food, depending on the situation. There's a good chance that you could go an entire Games without eating. Games don't take that long, and three weeks is how long the average person can last. So, don't focus on food too much. You might need shelter and water right away, so go to those stations first."

Ace stared at Spencer, trying to take all this in, but also amazed by how good Spencer was at mentoring. Ace felt completely calm around him, even though he was heading into a death battle. He felt more calm than he often felt around his mother, or his girlfriend, or anyone but Tata. He felt like he could trust someone, which was an uncommon experience.

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," Ace replied halfheartedly. The information Spencer was giving him mattered so much more than his emotions, but he couldn't shake them from his head. _Better be careful with your allies._

* * *

 **Two more train rides to go, and well I'm going to keep this short. I still have about over 10k words left for my stupid homework assigment because it's tortuerous and guess what, it's due on Tuesday and I'm barely even at the rising action. I have been depressed lately so it's a little hard to actually function and not feel worthless. I actually don't know when the next update will be.**


	34. Train Rides: District 3

**Train Rides: District 3**

 **Agnes 'Aggie' Stuart (13), District 3**

Agnes fiddled with her charm bracelet as she stared at the tv, glancing to her district partners in the process. The other two were reticent or sitting stiffly on the sofa. It made her upset as it made her feel she couldn't aid them, as they were prepared to die like most of the tributes are. Agnes had to win the Hunger Games, to come back to her family and Christina. She made her promise that she would win and come back. Agnes couldn't break it.

Taking a deep breath, Agnes smiled as she recalled her conversation with Christina before Agnes had aboard the train to the Capitol. It didn't seem she even had a small chance of getting reaped. The infinitesimal amount of tesserae she taken out a few months ago, when her parents weren't doing so good when a fire broke out at the factory. An electrical fire, they said in which Agnes was grateful her parents nor one of her family's friends gotten hurt during that fire. Agnes had plans that afternoon before her name was called out from the annoying, high-pitched escort, but everything happened for a reason. She wasn't going to complain about it even if she was a bit scared from getting reaped.

"Telle, Elijah are you two holding up?" asked Agnes in a calm matter. Her brown eyes shone with happiness as she glanced at Elijah and Telle with a smile plastered on her face. She remembered the dirty blonde hair with the exact shade of silver in his eyes from a few months back from when she ran into him on accident. _Agnes made her way to the poorer section to visit Christina to see how much she was holding up; mostly wanting to see that Christina hadn't killed herself yet since she basically shut down. Christina lost a lot of weight making her seem she was a skeleton, so fragile that she may shatter at any given notice. Christina's dark blue eyes had bags underneath her, her clothes no longer hugged her body only just to be loose on her._

 _Not noticing where she was going, she bumped into something hard. Looking up, she saw a tall, but skinny figure with an anxious expression on his pale features as he looked startled from someone knocking into him. "Sorry about that… I must've been in a rush to not notice you," said Agnes apologetically. "I'm Agnes. Agnes Stuart, but most of my friends calls me Aggie."_

 _"Elijah," murmured the dirty blonde hair person-Elijah. "It's alright. I was a little distracted over my family's personal issues that I must have not seen you."_

 _"At least you're not offended. It's good talking to you, but I have to run. Have a marvelous day!" cried Agnes as she quickened her pace. She glanced around before dashing across to her friend's flat. Her friend's flat seemed to be cracking with age with the beige paint beginning to peel off the walls leaving an ugly shade of grey in its wakening._

 _Agnes knocked on her door, holding her breath anticipated to see Christina's mother with a happy expression; instead, she received a solemn expression with almost a sad look to her. Her voice cracked while she spoke, "Oh Aggie dear, it's a good thing you're here. Christina is up in her room, she is content about killing herself and I hope you might be able to stop it. I can't bear losing another one of my children, with this time with suicide." Agnes saw tears forming in her warm brown eyes as she spoke this. Agnes frowned at this information, clenching her fists tight she made her way to Christina's room, only finding the room locked._

 _She sighed and said softly, "Christina, it's me Aggie. Please open the door."_

 _Christina's response came quickly. She yelled, "Go away, Aggie! I don't want you to see you in pain at the sight of my dead body… You're too naive to be in this world, and so happy, but I'm afraid you can't assist me with this!"_

 _"I get it, candidly I do. Once upon a time when I wasn't so cheerful, I lost one of my closest relatives to suicide and learned that day. Life was too short. You can't let the demons win this battle. It's only for temporarily. After all, suicide is a permanent thing to your temporary problems. What would Laia say? You have to be strong, and I doubt she would want you to kill yourself over her."_

 _Agnes held her breath in anticipation as she awaited a single response. She didn't know whether her words actually worked and Christina would no longer kill herself. It was agonizing of how much waiting she had to endure before she heard a sigh coming from the other end of the door. Was that a good sign? After all, suicide is a permanent thing to your temporary problems. Would Christina still kill herself? So many questions were going through her head that it made her head spin from the thoughts that whirled around like a tornado._

 _She heard the lock clicked and stared at the mahogany, cracked door until it opened to reveal a tear-stricken face of Christina. Tears were clinging to her dark eyelashes, and her normal brown eyes were bloodshot. Her breathing was abnormal, and twitching quite a bit as if she was crying really hard. Her dark lips made an 'o' sound as her eyes met Agnes's. "Agnes, I should thank you for actually saving my life. I most likely, would kill myself if you hadn't come to my rescue and said reassuring words to me. It's been really hard since Laia died, and I guess her death really took a toll on me ever since she died in the massacre at the cornucopia." Her lips turned to make a smile to signify she was happy, and Agnes exhaled that she saved her friend before death overtook her._

 _"What are friends for?" replied Agnes, with a smile on her features._

"Hey, are you listening to me?" inquired the caramel skin girl that had a neutral expression on her face. Her green eyes looked like they were calculating her or something, as if she was judgemental about something or her, in particular. Agnes assumed this was Telle which would make sense. She assumed Telle would feel happier if she didn't keep a scowl on her face. Life was limited, might as well enjoy it while you still can.

"Sorry, I must've zoned out for a moment," said Agnes. "Can you reiterate what you said?"

Telle grumbled something that Agnes was unable to hear, but she assumed it was something negative. Fine. She could live her life in a negative state, and would possibly be regretful, but Agnes wasn't in control of her life. She spoke in a cold voice,"I said that I was doing okay. I'm just pondering on what I should do for my plan in the Hunger Games which I suggest you should do the same also, little girl. You shouldn't worry about other people lives, but you're own. The Hunger Games aren't enjoyable as you might think."

"I never said I enjoyed the Hunger Games… I'm terrified of them myself. I'm trying of being positive and hope that my district partners would survive long enough until close to the end," whispered Agnes. That was the end of the conversation in which all three of them sat in uncomfortable silence as they awaited for the escort and their mentors to show up.

* * *

 **Elijah RoseMarrie (15), District 3**

Elijah let his mind wandered of how much he lied that he said he would be coming home right after the reaping. A big lie. He didn't know that he would have gotten reaped. Sure, he took some extra tesserae even if he was from the slums of where the people that were unable to have extra food. How much he promised to take Elsa around the neighbourhood along with his brother to describe him about the neighbourhood once again (it seemed to be his favourite thing). The many rows of the cracking houses; many of which were past salvaging condition, but yet Elijah described it perfectly well, of how much it wasn't a difference when his brother was able to see again.

 _Amiti's condition shown itself when he was seven of how much he was having so much trouble of seeing the board at school. How the words seem to blend in each other, making it hard to see. How much he wasn't able to make out titles; it was then when it was revealed he had Retinitis Pigmentosa. The world had crumbled around the family It made Elijah devastated as they would no longer play together playing their favourite game, Cowboys and Indians, along with the other slum kids. Or they would, but it would no longer be the same._

 _Amiti's world turned into darkness soon afterwards, a bit depressed because he couldn't do what other kids could. It changed his perspective slowly as Elijah showed him the ropes of how he could still be who he was even if his sight was truly gone, besides a few shadows whenever the sun was in the right position. At least he had some vision left instead of being in complete darkness forever., even if he wasn't able to see anything anymore. Elijah didn't know how Amiti could do it, but he made friends with everyone always sociable and did everything he could even if he was blind._ Sometimes Elijah envied him at times, but he was grateful he had sight. One thing for certain, Amiti wouldn't see him die a brutal death if he died. He couldn't count himself out just yet. Slum kids had a chance also.

Standing up, Elijah brushed off some dirt from earlier and asked, "Does anyone want any food? I'm sure they have lots of food here that we could munch on."

"Sure. Telle, do you want any?" asked Aggie as she stood up quickly as if she wanted to come with him. It wasn't like Elijah was going to complain, she seemed like a good kid. Kind, extremely positive and never seemed to be angry. He enjoyed her company. If he was looking for allies than she seemed to be like a good ally to keep until the very end. Her long mahogany curls were put up in a loose braid with a few yellow bows in her hair. It made her seem so mature, but he doubted she really had suffered a lot in her life. Her skinny frame didn't seem so malnourished than his. Probably came from middle-class or rich parents.

Telle responded quickly, "No thank you. I ate this morning and am not feeling up to food. I would probably throw up if I ate something."

"Okay," said Aggie in which her smile never faltered. Elijah was confused of how positive she was. He expected her to be crying with bloodshot eyes, her usual ashen skin covered with streaks of wetness but yet she never did. She was just eerily quiet, in which Elijah was kinda grateful. He didn't want to hear wails coming from anyone or at least no today. He just wanted to go home, but that wasn't an option.

Taking a deep breath, Elijah calmed his nerves that threatened to scream, possibly kill himself by throwing himself out of the window to go back to the district. He had no clue where they were at. He could no longer see the district nor the relieved faces of the eligible as they didn't get reaped this year. They were in wilderness with endless amount of dead grass in which looked untouch. He was surprised by how much wilderness remained as he kinda thought there was no room left once Panem rose out of the cinders over two hundred years ago. It wasn't like he was that focused on his geography or anything; he liked history and the overall life in the districts along with a bunch of useless things.

"Elijah, can I ask you something?" inquired Aggie as she grabbed a handful of chocolate strawberries along with dozens of sweets. It looked delicious, but Elijah just didn't want to get a stomach ache or get sick once they arrived at the colourful, flamboyant capitol.

"I guess," replied Elijah.

"Do you want to be allies or something? I mean like as a last resort in case I'm unable to find any allies…" rambled Aggie. She seemed to talk a little too much, maybe it was out of habit or something whenever she got nervous in which he wasn't sure. One thing for sure, she would die once she stepped on the pedestal of the arena. "I haven't watched the recaps of the reapings but since I kind of briefly met you before. You just seem like a nice guy and all. I'm really not sure, though."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay, it's better than like not considering my offer," said Aggie. She popped a strawberry in her mouth in which she moaned. "You have to try these strawberries… They're superb."

Elijah glanced at her briefly before grabbing a chocolate-covered-strawberry and put it in his mouth. It was rich and delicate. His taste buds went wild, savoring every moment of the sweetness and juiciness from the strawberry. He hadn't tasted anything like this besides the somewhat dried bread his family always had along with pork, but that often was what they had every day. It got tiring after a while, in which sometimes he skipped dinner entirely for two nights a week.

"Not bad," commented Elijah as he grabbed a plateful."Have you had any of this before?"

"No, first time… I had chicken salad before. Quite delicious. Don't mean to brag or anything. I'm mean yeah, sure I'm from the middle-class, but honestly I don't think it matters."

"You probably have a point."

* * *

 **Telle Versey (17), District 3**

Telle grabbed a book from her shelf in boredom. She was alone in the room with the escort and the mentors being extremely slow. She hadn't heard anything and knowing her luck, they avoided her as much as they could. She didn't really know, she wasn't that popular in the district but she made friends quite easily. Telle found Elijah uninteresting from the way he was sitting and he most likely was. Agnes was annoying with her cheerfulness in which she was a bit jealous of if she had to admit it. She usually wasn't that positive with her strict dad and all.

"You must be Telle Versey right?" asked a feminine voice. Telle looked up from her book when she got interrupted. She saw a grey tee and black leggings along with auburn curly hair belonging to the person that interrupted her. The only thing that made her so odd was the scar along her face, and her right eye was shut, and looked like she was unable to open it. Telle had heard rumours about a mentor that had her face scarred forever from a freak accident, in which forced her to stop mentoring others. Telle didn't believe those rumours of course, usually rumours were false but she guessed this one was correct. "I'm Tecna Bridges, one of the mentors."

Telle was unable to form any words from her shock of this person-a mentor. No wonder she was forced to stop mentoring. She really was hideous and would probably give kids a run for their money. She managed to utter something, "You're really hideous. Are you sure your component of mentoring?" She didn't mean that her words to be harsh, but judging from the appearance she probably truly was as an incompetent mentor that would rather drink instead of help the tributes.

Tecna didn't look fazed by the choice of Telle's words. She was possibly used to it which why should Telle's choice of hers would even shock Tecna. Telle felt bad of course. The poor woman was probably used to this harsh treatment, so why did Telle felt bad for her? The answer was simple, Tecna was human just like everyone else, she just got mutated by a freak accident. Instead, Telle found herself apologizing, "Sorry… It's just that you're just hideous, and I freaked out a bit."

"Don't worry the feeling is mutual," replied Tecna. Of course, the feeling would have been mutual. She was probably a hated person because of her disability that made her just seem like a monster. Of course, Telle didn't know of being hated in the district. She did have many friends, and no one ever really bully her nor did rumours ever flown around. She was almost a celebrity of some sorts. "Do you have a strategy for the Hunger Games?"

Telle looked dumbfounded at the question. She didn't really think of that much. Her mind mostly wondered about that test that would have taken place and if she would have received an A or higher. It just seemed like everything she did just disappointed her father. Her mother, however, she didn't care just usually say how proud she was. It made her feel conflicted, almost. "I really don't know… I'm probably one of the useless tributes. I haven't had any weapon experience, nor had I really starve so I could be useless."

"A lot of tributes say that," uttered Tecna. Her emerald eye not bothering to blink at Telle's choice of words. "Then they turn out they die, the end. Simple, you want to win don't you?"

"Obviously." said Telle. Telle wanted to win more than anything, but at the same time she had doubt. She didn't really had to work much in her life. Everything was easy. She always had food on the table, sometimes she grew arrogant about how easy her life was. Yet, that couldn't save her from getting reaped. Sure, she had intelligence but that only went that far. Everything required intelligence, but she doubted algebraic equations would figure out how to win. "Yet, sometimes I feel like I shouldn't even bother trying because I only have like a 0.057 chance of actually winning counting all the tributes."

Tecna interjected with a calm expression, "There's only thirty-five tributes this year counting you and only two are to win this year so you might have a chance."

"Eleven more than usual."

"How I won was to focus on the survival stations the most. Since there's a fifty-fifty chance of getting an outdoor arena in which in recent years has been more common, but things could change. You can't really depend on the weapons the most, even if it helps you kill tributes and animals. Animals provide protein in which you can't ignore. Just do you. If you want to risk your neck in the bloodbath, you're more than welcome too. I just want to see a Victor from DIstrict 3 again," explained Tecna in a hurried voice. She sounded like she was rushed.

Telle heard a loud screech coming from the train in which Telle looked out of the window in amazement. The books never did much justice on the Capitol. She knew the Capitol would look magnificent, but she would kill to stare at the Capitol all day long. The white towering skyscrapers and the dyed hair of the people as they craned their necks to be able to see them.

"Welcome to the Capitol," said Tecna flatly. Her expression looked like she was unhappy about the interruption. The train ride was short. She thought it would have taken a few hours at the most. It seemed to only take an hour possibly because of where District 3 was located, it would have been quicker than most.

"It's magnificent," breathed Telle. She craned her neck to see the towering buildings everywhere and the amount of people that surrounded the pearl train.

* * *

 **I'm being a tadbit impatient to get the chapter back, so if there is any changes I'll make sure to get it whenever I get it back. I literally realized that this is my first Hunger Games chater (since the 8th) that I actually worked on and finished because I got burned out on Hunger Games. Hunger Games became a big part of my life and I didn't focus on some other stories on different fandoms in which caused a burn-out. Sounds so stressing. On a much happier note, school is almost over, bad news is that I got another project to do but that's the last one for the year. Next chapter is District 4 Train Rides than the Capitol.**


	35. Train Rides: District 4

**Train Rides: District 4**

 **Sirene Hook (17), District 4**

Sirene made her way to the train frowning, mostly thinking about how much she couldn't give one or two of her crew crap tomorrow because of the incompetence of actual performing their tasks they were required to do. It wasn't that hard of actual performing their required tasks and they could probably kiss their jobs goodbye. She wasn't going to put up with the crap on her boat. That event pissed her off entirely and she really wanted to give them crap, but looks like that was going to wait.

 _Sirene looked towards the shore seeing black dots against the horizon, possibly of people walking and getting into their fishing boats. A few fisherman were preparing to leave the docks, but it didn't help if the morning tide was already disappearing back into the vast, navy blue ocean. She was lucky enough to actually get started when she arrived, with what happened with Reed and Sirene earlier before the tide started to retreat._

" _Excuse me ma'am, but do you need any help?" Asked one of the fishermen. A girl that looked about fourteen or fifteen years old with dark skin that had sunburn all across her skin. Her dark brown hair was put up in a long ponytail to keep her neck cool against the rising temperature. Sirene had a feeling that today would be a scorcher with the already rising temperatures._

" _No. Just prepare the fishing rods, Sertore," said Sirene in a bossy sort of voice. Her dark brown eyes stared into the girl's fountain blue eyes._

" _But ma'am, I already tossed some of the lures out because I couldn't get it and the other people didn't want to help."_

 _Sirene sighed, breathing in through her nose and out of her mouth. She really did not want to deal with this crap today especially what happened with Reed and all that. What's next is her boat going to start to sink? Yeah, she really didn't feel like explaining of why she was stranded out in the ocean and her boat was, because that just sound so idiotic especially if it wasn't her boat. The district was loaning it to her and it wouldn't do if the boat sank. She clenched her fists tightly and spoke in a low, deadly voice, "Are you kidding me? I bought those lures myself from the usual sellers and thanks to you, now I have to find more money in order to pay for the damage you made. I don't have time for your incompetence, girl. I'll give you a choice. You swim back to the shore nude and receive a small whipping for your incompetence of not doing your job properly or I could publicily disgrace you and if I ever see you on my boat again, you'll regret it… You have by tomorrow because of the reaping to decide, and I'll make sure that no one would hire you to be a fisherman again either way… Barbel, prepare one of the nets before we go and let it sit there for about 10 minutes and see if we could catch the same amount of fish because of one girl's simple incompetence!"_

In the end, they lost a total of seventeen pounds because of the stupid mistake. The buyers had docked seventeen coins off their usual payment because of the lack of pounds and the number of fish. It pissed her off greatly, and she wanted to give that girl a piece of her mind. Now that she was reaped, she was going to get back home alive and not in a coffin in which she would be outcasted at sea and set on fire. That usually to signify people's death in which was always set at midnight in which Sirene always wanted to see the Burning of the Bodies, but you usually had to be invited or be close to the person. It was one thing that made her curious of the way why they would set the bodies always on fire exactly at midnight and have a small celebration right afterwards. It looked so cool, and how much they could have fun during the night. Sirene never been to one, but she heard rumours that it was a good place to mourn and lose yourself in the celebrations. How lucky everyone would be…

Burning of the Bodies used to be for rich people of their last wish to be is be burned out at sea, in which it would just mourn the death of that person. Some person suggested that they should have a celebration afterwards, to have fun without that person. It usually meant drink your way into oblivion, in which people over sixteen usually did, until they no longer able to walk straight or at least that was what Sirene heard. Being apart of the lower side of the district, with the neighborhood facing the opposite side of the vast ocean sucked when her parents couldn't find a decent job to work at so they're able to pay the rent on time instead of getting evicted every three months because of the rent issue. Sirene had moved into more houses than she could count, and it got to the point where she only unpacked her necessities and her favourite mermaid sculpture to make her feel at home.

Sirene made her way to the blue sofa. Not bothering to glance at the happy escort that almost had an apprehensive look to him, but it was probably because it was his first year or something like. At least he seemed better than the chipper, arrogant, flamboyant escort from the last ten years and her ugly sunflower dress. Or well a sunflower costume that made Sirene drown her then bring her back to life and kill her once more until the woman had a decent sense to put something different.

Glancing around. Her brown eyes landed on Diego Barbel, a fellow fisherman who worked on her boat every morning. He was a decent person a bit harsh though, but she wasn't going to pry.

"Barbel, it's good to see you," said Sirene as she looked at the familiar face of Diego Barbel. He looked a bit happy, but yet almost apprehensive. "At least I don't have to scan at the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face."

"Usually the Hunger Games aren't like that. I never dreamed that you would be one of my competitors," replied Diego. "Since you're my supervisor every morning."

"Yeah. Well neither of us are immune to the Hunger Games."

"Ain't that the truth," he said, "Anyways are you going to ally?"

"A possibility… Not sure if I would join the careers."

"I don't know about myself."

* * *

 **Diego Barbel (18), District 4**

Diego took a deep breath as he calmed his nerves. He didn't want to do this at first, but now. It didn't seem that scary, even though it was a bit intimidating. He didn't mind though. His words from earlier made him want to burst into tears, but he wasn't going to be a crybaby. Weak tributes only cried in the Hunger Games in which usually resulted in their deaths. He didn't want to die either way. He wasn't scared of dying. He usually was more scared of not being able to prove himself and that he would be seen as someone weak.

Diego's life wasn't exactly all that easy. He could remember his time at the orphanage, with how much the other wards mocked him and ridiculed him. How much he was jealous of everyone who was young, mostly everyone who was under two years old.

 _Diego glared at the red-head that looked like a carrot with freckles covering his whole body. Kaden was only older by twelve years and if you weren't adopted by the time you were seven, you basically lose your chance of being adopted. Diego knew that of how there usually was less infants everyday and he was grateful, he would get more sleep that way as the walls were paper thin and he was stationed right near where the infants were as he was a toddler during that time. Kaden bullied the younger ones as he was jealous because he basically lost his chance of getting adopted, with turning eighteen in two years._

" _So freak, you think you're something special because you're young and many people would pass you a prying glance at you. Guess what you're not. No one would adopt you possibly because you're black and unable to talk, freak," spat Kaden. His dark green eyes stared into his brown ones and it made him want to cry, but he would stand his ground. No. No he wouldn't bow down._

 _Diego had been in the orphanage for a few years. He'd been sickly child and always caught some sort of disease where everyone thought he would die with how high his fever soared to enough where people gave up to him. The matrons told him he was found on the doorstep in the pouring rain where they considered him calling him Rain, possibly for a laugh but some odd person suggested Diego. His biological parents were probably so poor and didn't want to take care of a baby so they dropped him off. However by age three, people said he was like an avox of how he never talk to and random people would open up his mouth if his tongue was still there._

 _Leila and Jack adopted him two months after he turned four in which, somehow along the way. He started speaking and talking like a normal person would._

"Welcome to the train!" exclaimed the escort, Andy Artino, whose screech of happiness sounded off and forced. Like he wanted everyone to be annoyed with him.

Diego sat down in front of the tv, not bothering to rewatch the recaps of the reaping as he wanted to have a surprise of who his competitors was especially the careers and if any of them was a decent career person. His interest was watching the 186th games and forward. He didn't pay attention to what Sirene or Cleo wanted to do, as if he really cared. He turned his attention back to the games and watched of who the victor would be

During the 186th Games, Mai Trevi from District 4 won the games in which made him shock. She played the clingy kind of person who didn't want to be alone any second, and didn't do any hunting until towards the end of the game where she turned out to be a killer, just acting. She won easily though and quickly. Her games only lasted about eight days.

The other games weren't really that important. He found himself rooting for some of the people who turned out to victors, but it showed him tactics of how the victors, themselves, won in their games. They were usually different and Diego hoped he could make one that would make him a victor. However, in the 188th games he saw Kaden Meagen, and died only two days later before a fireball torched him alive in which he came in a box, just dumped him out at sea. Adding another name to the long list of the dead plague in the district where everyone could often trace back their ancestors and see if one of them was in the Hunger Games. Something that often amused him countless of times.

* * *

 **Cleo Rivera (17), District 4**

Cleo settled down on her bed after ordering on what they call Cherry Coke with hints of Vanilla in it. It tasted okay, but it made her miss home more as back in her childhood days, she and her best friends back then-Tris, Mare and Mia used to do crazy things mostly sneaking out of the house at night and witness the burnings that happened at night. Before they grew apart, Cleo remembered one of those days where they sneaked off to see a rated R movie in which frightened the four of them in which caused them to get nightmares for weeks and being grounded for sneaking out of the house. Sadly, the grounding didn't last long as they went right back to where they started.

Sadly, their relationship didn't last that long as Cleo was more interested in training while the others were more interested doing something else, and Cleo liked going to the gym. She was always competing with herself to make sure she was perfect at everything before continuing on to another thing. She always had that pet peeve where it made her get missing assignments at school was she was constantly erasing her work to make sure it was perfect. It caused her to get bad grades, in which Cleo blamed herself that she was just a perfectionist and everything had to be perfect before she realized that she simply didn't give a crap about it and went on ditching school whenever she didn't want.

Cleo felt tears falling onto the silk white sheet, and hugged her knees when it hit her. She made a grave mistake. Cleo didn't want to die, as her life was worth so much more than winning the games. She should've kept her mouth shut all the way through the reapings. This was just a grave mistake that Cleo might suffer from. _Was her life really that worth it for her to thrown it away? She should have listened to Blake when he told her she shouldn't volunteer. Maybe with her being blinded by her romantic feelings towards Blake could have been a factor._ He would probably be at home by now, possibly questioning about why Cleo volunteered and ignored him. She was such a fool.

Her mother died in childbirth due to some complications. It devastated her family and Cleo in general, even though she was only minutes old at the time. Growing up, Cleo just been introverted all her life and distanced herself from others including her father and Kai before Kai proved to he that he wasn't going anywhere. Cleo was scared that people would leave her, and that caused a rift in the friendship Tris, Mare, Mia and herself that made their friendship drift apart. Cleo just didn't really want to lose anyone else was one of her fears back than before she found herself that she was rather good at manipulating others into tricking them she was their friend. It was easy, and she enjoyed it to make the pain go away.

The pain of feeling abandoned and parentless since her father was usually out at sea, making income for his family. Once in a while, her father would invite her and Kai to go out at sea with him for a few weeks to have some bonding time, and tell stories. Cleo really liked it, and at least confided in with him with some of her problems, but he hadn't proved his trust as he was usually never there. Sometimes he would bring back souvenirs in which Cleo enjoyed, but it usually was little trinkets that he either made from seashells or stuff that came in the nets, such as sand dollars. It was nice though.

Cleo sighed thinking about all the wonderful memories she had before she volunteered. She really had been a fool. Cleo gambled her life away, and hoped that she would do her best in the Hunger Games so she could live. She couldn't die. _Not yet._ She couldn't devastate her father and Kai with her passing as they watch her burning. A child taken away. She would come back home.

* * *

 **Yo, I hoped you guys like this chapter and I hope I did all of them justice. It's my first time writing these as due to real life FlyingHamburgerRider is unable to collborate for the time being. I'll see you all in the next chapter.**


	36. Parade

**Chariots**

 _ **Sierra Ulrich-Game-maker**_

Sierra smiled as she looked around to her fellow Game-makers who stood stiffly in the room. Her eyes lingered on a few foes especially Violetta as she sneered at the screen. It was almost like she was up to something. Her usual pale-skin shimmered in the lights of the buildings as the parade was set to go on. Violetta's midnight hair was usually put down in a crystal headband with simple jewelry on her (diamond earrings and a ruby necklace), but today she sported something different. Violetta's midnight hair had blue fringes and was put up in a braided crown with half of her hair in waves. Her flawless skin shimmered with oils, her nails coated in a shade of crimson nail polish, that looked like her nails were bleeding. It made Sierra want to shiver at the sight of her. Violetta's usual attire was dropped into a peach-coloured ball gown. _She was definitely up to something._ Violetta never wore something so light.

"Welcome friends," said Violetta with a hint of a smile on her crimson lips. "Welcome to the moment we've been waiting for. The lovely parade for the tributes. A chance to see the tributes for the first time." Her tone was monotonous, and seemed like she didn't want to say it in which Sierra didn't mind. The speech was old, and here she thought that Violetta would come up with something actually worth listening to. _Guess not…_

Sierra heard the usual words come out of Violetta's mouth and watched as the screen blared on. The president smiled as warmly as she could, almost like she was embracing the whole Panem and tell them everything would be okay. She screamed, "Welcome, citizens to the Parade, to see what the stylists came up for, for this year's Hunger Games! This year is different as we have thirty-five tributes, all courageous young men and woman, and the Capitol is allowing two courageous tributes to win this year instead of one!"

Sierra smiled at the short, crisp speech as it was articulated well and it made it so attention-grabbing. Two victors is certainly a change instead of having one. _It was probably for the sake for the Quarter Quell that made this announcement,_ thought Sierra. She was looking forward to how the tributes would fare in the arena and how interesting they looked like today. Who knows, maybe one of them could catch her eye and make the tribute go far in the arena? But that required both the President and the Game-makers to veto it.

"District 1 has Plantanium Glitzered. Age is sixteen, and doesn't look like he entered puberty yet or well maybe the Stylists removed his stubble. Bridget Neverland is the female for this year, and says here… She's ah… eighteen and looks like she has a chance," explained a male voice in which Sierra wanted to kill him for interrupting that, but it was probably that newbie that questioned everything.

This year, the usual black horses were placed with dark brown horses that each sported a white stripe down it's face. The horses were trotting down the aisle while it pulled a single black chariot. Plantanium's wild black hair had been slicked back, giving off some sort of royalty look to it. His velvet jet black suit with rough cut diamonds on it. He smiled. _Cruelly._ It gave Sierra shivers to even look at him. His dark eyes seem to be dangerous, but yet enhancing. She wasn't sure what the stylists was trying to prove with him. Bridget was certainly was interesting. Her black, curly hair was pinned up loosely in a braided crown look with a silver tiara on top of it. Her dark skin matched the dark blue princess-y dress with the sleeves short, and the dress reaching to her ankles. She wore dark blue elbow-length gloves that hid her arms. She wore matching heels and made her seem taller than her 5'6. It was almost like a princess theme with the diamond suit of Plantanium's and the regaling princess dress of Bridget. Sierra seen a few like that during her lifetime, in which it somewhat wowed her every time.

"DIstrict Two has Alkali Mori, age 18. Ivy Butler age 18 and Lime Malachite age 13."

"Why is there a thirteen year old from two?" inquired Crystal, a fellow game-maker. Crystal's onyx eyes glanced at the others with her bubblegum pink hair waving behind her. Sierra heard a long sigh coming from her when no one responded to her question. _Honestly, does these idiots actually watch the recaps of the reapings?_ Sierra thought it was funny of how no one payed attention. She didn't know the reason besides that the thirteen-year-old volunteered.

"He volunteered," replied Sierra sternly. Her eyes watching the screen as the timpani players played on with a slow kind of beat. The white horses trotted against the marble ground with the black chariot pulling behind the horses. The two females-Alkali Mori and Ivy Butler was in the first chariot, both sporting a different outfit, but had the same theme with it. _Armory._ Ivy Butler had her mousey hair hidden from view underneath her silver, metal helmet. Sierra assumed it was merely in a tight bun to keep it away from her face. Ivy's entire body was filled with silver metal armor that clanked everytime her arms hit her armor. Alkali's however sported a different look that almost looked like Ivy's was, but more peacekeeper fitting. She had her hair twisted into a tight bun. She wore no makeup besides the nude shade of lipstick to bring out her bubble-gum pink lips. Unlike Ivy's outfit, her outfit was paper white with a gun attached to her side in which it was obvious her outfit was fake and possibly made of foam because her outfit didn't clank everytime she knocked into something whereas a normal peacekeeper outfit would.

A single white horse trotted against the tempini sound that carried Lime Malachite in a black chariot with crimson flowers woven into the chariot. Lime sported something really similar to Ivy and Alkali's outfits. His outfit was a tight silver bodysuit with a fake sword that he was waving around with a huge grin on his face. It was almost that he was just a wannabe knight or a really silver peacekeeper as it was just a mix. Sierra didn't know what it had to two, but okay. It really seemed that the stylists plainly lost interest to DIstrict 2. Maybe it was time to retire them, perhaps?

Sierra drew her gaze away from the screen, and headed towards to the refreshment stand. Her tall blue high-heels clicking against the dark mahogany floor. She would have a few minutes to maybe get some chocolate and salt popcorn and maybe a fruit punch to keep her shaking hands composed enough. Sierra just didn't want to have an anxiety attack during the parade as she would most likely be mortified the rest of her life. Even though, possibly like half of the game-makers suffered from disabilities in which sometimes, Sierra thought Violetta had a split personality or she was just a bitchy person from the day she was born.

Sierra took a sip from her fruit punch in which her tastebuds exploded. She could taste the lemon with a bit of lime added to it, and maybe pineapple in the mix. Whatever the bartender put in it, it was quite delicious in which it didn't take her that long to drink all of it. Tempted to get another one, Sierra stared at the screen just in time to see the DIstrict Three chariot in which had two chariots just like the previous one had. The black horses pounded across the floor, bring a white checkered chariot into the mix. Agnes had her whole body painted in eggshell white paint in which her hair was dyed in white with a bit of blue around her face. Her eyeshadow was a dark blue with a touch of mascara. She looked like a real life robot which almost frightened Sierra, but she reminded herself that it was only a costume and it wasn't going to come and chase her afterwards. Telle had on the exact same outfit but was in a silver tight bodysuit in which she looked mildly uncomfortable with and little blue, red dots flashing on her torso making her seem almost alien like.

the chariot came out with Elijah on board with a keyboard like suit. His suit was black and white, and had keyboard pieces stuck on him messy in which Sierra refrained herself from rolling her eyes. It seemed that DIstrict three mostly followed the inhuman robots because they were probably adorable. It wasn't especially if Agnes's outfit wasn't that creepy and would kill her the next day.

Before the district four chariot came on, a scream was heard. Sierra was unable to place of who it came from. She looked behind her with frantic eyes hoping to find the person that screamed,but all the eyes were widen and staring at the screen. In which, Sierra turned her attention back to the screen. The chariots were frozen in place the mallets frozen in mid-beat with the audience staring at the happening.

The unthinkable happened.

President Roxanne Nellcamon was dead or maybe she was just in a coma state. Her lips already turning blue, her emerald eyes widening in shock. She seemed motionless, and frozen in whatever state she was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Panem. Please pardon the interruption of the Parade as we are sadly to inform you that President Nellcamon is dead from drinking a bottle of a martini. Until we figure out who placed the poison inside the president's cup, the oldest daughter of the late president, Violetta Nellcamon will be placed as the president. We will be holding back the Hunger Games for a few days where the tributes will pay their condolences to the president and have a chance to mourn for their former leader. We'll continue with the parade shortly." said one of the guards that stood by the motionless pale body of the president. Her auburn hair scrawled across her pale face as her emerald eyes stared ahead, lifeless.

Sierra looked at her fellow game-makers with the same expression: shock and disbelief. Never had this happened in Panem's history where the president died during the tribute parade. Hurried whispers were heard almost saying one thing, " _Whom would kill the former President?"_ In which, no one knew the answer too not even Sierra, herself.

"I guess that this is a goodbye than," said Violetta who didn't look devastated one bit with happiness on her face. Almost everyone who associated with Violetta knew that she wanted the president's position, and this would possibly be her very belated birthday present. "Whoever who is here the longest is the head game-maker." She didn't bother looking back, and slammed the door shut on her way out. Everyone stood in silence for a minute than heard the beat of the timpani from the screen, signalling that the parade would restart again.

The District Four chariot came towards view with the brown horses with light blue designs on both the chariots and the horses. Sirene Hook wore a gradient blue dress that seemed to sparkle every time the light hit the dress. Her dark hair had white stripes in it, possibly signalling the colour of the water in the district or a wave no doubt. Cleo Rivera sported a flowing dress that had both dark blue and a dark green tone with a few crabs in her dark hair.

The next chariot of DIstrict Four came with white horses with a few spots on them. Diego stood in the chariot with almost a frown on his face as he was dressed as a fisherman with just khaki pants, woven sandals and a fishing rod in his hand. He seemed a bit pathetic in the outfit and possibly that he was supposed to be a fisherman in the ocean. It was quite hilarious though.

The light brown horses trotted to the beat of the timpani with Brandon Alderwood and Twyla Zahavyin in it, both wearing different outfits with no particular theme going on. Brandon had a yellow ensemble going on in which the yellow was quite blinding even through the screen. Twyla had a dark dress with patches of glowing yellow fabric almost making it look like she was a city during the night.

Dark Brown horses followed through with Clio, and Zircon on the first of the chariots. Zircon sported a suit with neutrons swirling around on it which doesn't exactly go with district six, but Sierra assumed it was possibly because District 6 was one of the smartest, but dangerous districts. Maybe it had to do with physics as it's like building a train or something like that. Sierra didn't know anything about trains nor physics so she wouldn't know. Clio's frown was noticeable in the camera in which she seemed to be jealous at her district partner as she wore a white dress with a skirt flaring to her knees. The hem of the dress seem to have tire rubber on it and the sleeves seem to have feathers that were barely noticeable as she didn't move her arms that much.

A light brown horse came trotting down the aisle with Tera waving and smiling despite her odd outfit. She was covered in light brown paint with a white stripe in her hair. She was probably to represent running or something like that.

District Seven soon came with two dark brown horses with white ankles trodden against the timpani sound. Juniper was dressed in a light pink flower dress with her wearing dark green leave tights and matching flats. Vivian was in a a very baggy leafy jumpsuit that had different colours of leaves plastered on it.

Rosa and Blue was carried in the next black chariot with the same horses pulling the previous chariot. Rosa wore a green tight bodysuit with rows of autumn leaves and summer green leaves on it with Blue in the same outfit as her.

The 2 large thoroughbred horses trotted down with the tiny but chubby Lacey Weaver wearing a puffy layered patchwork dress with Damask Rockwell in the same outfit but wearing a suit instead.

An Arabian horse trotted down once the first of the district 8 followed the last of the district seven reached the middle of the aisle. Yarnn Ashen wore wore a factory girl outfit which seemed a bit silly. Her grey sleeves were rolled up and had lots of oil spills on her arms. She wore a matching grey skirt that reach her ankles with black combat boots.

White horses pulled a dark brown chariot with Autumn Fields in a dungaree with a gold tee underneath. A straw hat decorated elaborately with flowers and a long cape flying behind her made out of grain. Dan, however, was dressed in a yellow bodysuit with plaster of unorganized wheat stuck on him with a wheat hat on top.

Majestic horses followed through with Sable and Fresia in one chariot. Sable was just up with a white onsie with black spots. She has a matching hood with ears attached. Sierra supposed it should look a cow but she had a hard time thinking whether it was a black and white cat, a zebra or its supposed to be Bea cow. Fresia, however, sported a berry looke. She was dressed like a blueberry or whatever. Sierra had no idea why a berry would connect with district 10 but whatever.

Gabriella sported a white bellowing dress that had the occasional black pattern. Gary had a synthetic tree which was extremely weird. He wasn't from seven though but whatever works.

Ace wore a t-shirt and pants that had seeds covered all over it. Chole had on blue overalls with her hair straightened and a messy ponytail.

Bean's dress was made up of multi coloured leaves with her hair put up tightly in a bun. Alice had a dark green skirt and shirt with wooden barks on the side of it. It was so weird though, but Sierra didn't mind. So far none of the tributes wowed her so maybe she won't do anything but hope for the best.

Raven sported a poor miner look to him either his outrageous orange colour with with a headband on his head. Jaycee wore a miner's outfit that was very provocative.

* * *

 **Not much to say, but this is going to be curious now. Since the training days would be postponed for a few days we will have some tribute interaction. Drop a review down below and I'll see you next time.**


	37. Day 1: Freedom and Hope

**Day 1: Freedom and Hope**

 **Bridget Neverland (18), District 1**

Bridget woke up with a start. She looked at the clock that read about 9:30 am and she simply couldn't remember the last time she had slept in. Yesterday's events just seem to blur into haziness of how they would delay the Hunger Games for a few days once the nation had a chance to mourn for the former president. It just gave her a few more days to relax and come up with a better plan instead of training and being focused.

A knock was heard from the other side of the brown door that had a picture frame on the back of the door. The picture held a beach with the ocean waves lapping against the sand, making it seem to be reality and not just a picture. Bridget once had a dream when she was younger where she would be a princess that was locked up in a castle with prince charming dashing across to the silverstones of the castle where she would finally be free. Now that she was older, she only seen herself as one thing: Victor. "Up! Up! Up!" yelled the escort without even waiting for Bridget to reply that she was awake. "Breakfast is in fifteen. Clothes are in the dresser and dress appropriately!"

Bridget let out a small yawn in which she walked sleepily to the white dresser that had three drawers filled with some clothes. Looking through the clothes she found a sports bra, underwear and socks in the top drawer. In the middle was shirts of all different colours, leggings, shorts, pants and shorts right next to the shirts. The bottom obviously was pajamas in which she contently picked out black leggings that had a spiderweb design on them with a plain grey t-shirt with a v-neck. She heads towards the bathroom and turned on the shower even though it took her five minutes to turn on the faucet of the showers. It wasn't what she was used to, even though DIstrict 1 and the Capitol was a bit similar, but the faucets was a difference. Back home, she would simply turn on with a handle as her family liked to have ancient things which would explain the lark, mahogany grandfather clock in the living room back home. This time she simply had to push a few buttons to get the temperature right where it wouldn't burn her dark skin.

Letting out a sigh, she let her mind wander away from her. Of how much it seemed that the water would swallow her up and no one would find her until it was too late. It was one thing that she feared as she avoided taking baths in the morning where she had a good night's rest instead of how late it was when she gets home from the academy as she usually is there almost every morning and night during summer vacation since there was nothing else to do in the district. There were some cases where she would not have any choice, but to take shower late at night where her eyes would feel strained in which she would sometimes put on her glasses to keep her eye strain down to the minimum, but she hated wearing glasses.

Once she showered and put on her clothes with her dark skin pink from the hot water, she headed towards breakfast. At least a dozen scents made her mouth water at the smell, some of which she wasn't unable to identify, probably do the frenzy of the morning it seemed like. Plantanium's hair was gelled neatly, and he didn't look like he was tired one bit. Bridget had heard of his reputation in the district that he was the leader of a a gang, and would do things that she couldn't dream about if someone said no, but those were only rumours. Rumours that she didn't believe in.

She sat in a plush chair across from one of her mentors-Jasper Quartz. His auburn hair was cut short and was scrawled messily across his face with his dark violet eyes staring at her with a blank expression. Jasper Quartz won a few years ago by acting like a leader, who made rational decisions and wasn't overconfident. Bridget remembered those games well, with his district partner-Victoria Reyen, a ditzy girl who couldn't even do anything right. Victoria only received a six which greatly surprised everyone including Bridget. Skills didn't go with her arrogant attitude about her looks-straight black hair that reached to her mid-back and onyx eyes and pale features didn't suit her, which would explain of how she died in the bloodbath once in the games. Jasper wasn't surprised, but he knew he had to win. It was a story of how much Bridget found fascinating along with other Victors' stories of how they won the Hunger Games.

"Oh cool you're here," uttered Queena in a bored voice. Her brown eyes didn't bother looking up at the tributes "We were just discussing what we should do as of the unfortunate circumstances that arose during last night parade. Interact with the other tributes today at the rec centre or interact with the Capitolites."

"That's not much options!" interjected Plantanium loudly. He stood up with his dark eyes that seemed like an endless dark pit had an angry look to them. "Why couldn't we just go train like previous years had, or are you guys that pathetic like everyone else is in the district?"

"I would like to interact with the tributes," voiced Bridget in a composed voice, unfazed by her district partner's outburst. _Idiot. He could end up dying shortly after the Hunger Games with his outburst in which could make a lot of enemies including me._

"Alrighty eat up and we'll walk over to where most the tributes would be hanging out, and maybe relax at the same time," cried Lilian who almost seems pleased that they were going. Her ice-blue eyes sparkled against her blue mascara and her eyeshadow.

Bridget ate the oatmeal dutifully. Light brown sugar coated the plain oats, but she didn't care. She wanted to go to the rec centre, and possibly socialize to find some allies and maybe figure out the strengths and weaknesses like the usual amount of tributes normally did.

Soon, she found herself walking towards the rec centre against the pounding sun of the Capitol. The bright sun seem to blind her. It made her regret to grab the dark sunglasses from the nightstand, mostly to protect the dark brown eyes she had against the ultra rays of the sun, that made it hard to see. It seemed that she was the only one struggling to even keep up from the extremely ditzy escort, her mentors and her partner, who were currently walking quickly against the increasing hot temperature that seem to rise every minute or so.

Her eyes landed on a light building that seem to have a pool inside and outside. It seemed that mainly everyone went there to get away from the heat, and the air conditioner felt good against her sweating semi-dark skin tone. The escorts were sitting around talking in hushed voices, with few loud marks coming from them every few minutes. The mentors were smiling and enjoying themselves. She wanted to join in, in which she did.

* * *

 **Bean Brna (14), District 11**

Bean huddled in a corner, away from people. She didn't want to socialize with anyone, and plus she was afraid that the others would notice her weakness. Her bloodshot dark eyes looked at the cheerful expressions belonging to the tributes. All of them looked like they were having very fun, and she was surprised of how quickly the tributes went from nervousness to having fun, from the tense atmosphere the Hunger Games had.

Bean wasn't sure what made her sit down in the corner, watching the tributes who were having a race, or some of them, clinging to the wall in fear they might drown. She was sure that some slimy, ugly snake would slither up right next to her, and insert the venom inside her, so that she would die quickly. Snakes were common back home, and she often had to monitor the holes that her room had, in case some snake wanted to hide away.

"You okay?" inquired one of the tributes. Bean noticed the damped, dark brown hair was put up in a tight ponytail leaving puddles of water onto the grey concrete. Her tan skin was damp, and created droplets of water sliding down her body. "I'm surprised you're not swimming or hanging around with the others."

"I-I'm j-just t-t-t-terrified," stammered Bean. Her tone was shaky, and it made her want to wince at the tone. She wished she was one of the confident tributes, and maybe that was why her parents gave her away. They were probably tired of her crying all the time. Bean didn't know what to believe. She only knew one thing: her "parents" were rich and had plenty of food, but gave her away. "I don't want to be in the pool, since I'm afraid that I might drown and no one is there to save me!" Tears started streaming down her face, but she didn't realize it until she felt the familiar tricking of something wet going down her chubby cheeks.

"Honestly, just get in there. It keeps you cool from the pounding sun, and stick to the walls," The girl commented in a bored sort of tone. She turned around and jumped into the deep end without any care of the world. Bean envied her, for her confidence and able to swim. Everything she lacked.

Bean did the one thing she most stupidly could do, she jumped into the pool, hoping she actually landed somewhere her feet would be able to touch the bottom. To her dismay, Bean's feat were unable to find any sort of ground and she was far away from any wall that would make her afloat.

Growing up, Bean stayed away from water. She was so afraid that someone would might drown her in a bucket of water or perhaps, some sort of flesh-eating bacteria would kill her, since the water at the Home was never clean. It was usually a murky-brown colour, and when it was clear it usually was met for drinking water. Bean heard creepy stories that made her even more afraid to even go in the Bathroom and use any means of water. She heard that there was some ghost that was drowned nearby in some sort of lake, because of some girls that pushed her in there and the girl was unable to swim. Content in rage, the demon ghost would kill innocent girls around the age of twelve to fifteen to seek her revenge. It gave her the chills just thinking about. But she had worse things to think about, instead of one horror story.

Her brown eyes stung in the water as she tried to force her eyes open. For a second, she thought she saw something deathly pale and long dark air that was soaked to the bone, and Bean was almost certain that it was the demon girl from the story and the ghost would kill her. Her eyes started to close as she began to lose consciousness with her lungs screaming at her to contract. Was this how she was going to die? Because of her sheer stupidity in doing so?

Her dark legs were kicking uselessly against the heavy water. She wanted to get to the surface, and to get a large breath of oxygen. Her arms were rapidly swinging around at her side, and her lungs were starting to scream at her to contract, in which she obliged. She let out the air she'd been holding, and Bean soon realized what she done. She lost the oxygen, and she was starting to sink to the bottom beginning to lose consciousness in the process.

Something whisked her off, and got her to the atmosphere where the started coughing rapidly. Her brown eyes blinking rapidly. Her damp brown hair that was now straight, clung tightly against her skin and felt so heavy to move. Bean started crying all of a sudden with tears falling down freely, probably in happiness or something. She had no idea what she was feeling, but she was happy to hear the loud squeaking coming from nearby. The question remained, _who saved her?_

"Are you okay?" someone inquired, in a worried tone. She couldn't identify it. Of course, she didn't did a lot of socializing because she really didn't want to talk to some murderer that was acting like a tribute, escort or mentor. She didn't know these people! Bean valued her life, thank you very much.

"I think so. I p-prob-probably sh-shouldn't h-have d-d-done t-t-that," She stammered. She had no idea how she managed to be on the damp ground. She felt cold and her goosebumps danced across her arms and her legs, with hair prickling upwards. "I-I probably s-sh-should've s-s-stayed in the c-c-corner though. drowning is one of my worst fears, but it looked fun in the distance of course."

"Obviously!"

* * *

 **Blue Flametale (15), District 7**

Blue spent his time, climbing the rock climbing wall. He always wanted to climb one, when he was younger but his mom denied. He still didn't know why his mother would deny it, or maybe the fear of his father finding out that he was able to climb.

"You should put your foot where your left hand would be at, so that you would be able to reach the next grip," said the dark-skinned girl-Juniper he reminded himself. _One of his district partners._ He'd found her very annoying with her babbling about her dancing skills and how it could help in the arena. He didn't care that she was one of the very few best dancers in the district. Juniper acted like a spoiled brat sometimes, and he really couldn't hate to get his hands around her throat and choke her to death, for her annoying personality.

"I don't care," said Blue, raising his left arm to grab a grip near him. His arm somehow missed it, and he tumbled downwards, with Juniper's faint of a smile on her lips as he went down. Blue was greatly annoyed of how much he wanted to prove himself for the stupid girl. Ugh, why did he had to compare himself to her girly figure.

"I told you so," Juniper commented, before she raised herself. Replacing where her left hand used to be was now positioned upwards and her left ankle was resting at a grip. She seemed stuck, and Blue regained his footing onto a blue grip, and pulled himself upwards to where Juniper stood stuck. He couldn't believe of how a girl could get stuck if she pointed out where his hand should go. He was going to be better than her, and no one would stop him.

"Oh shut up, treehead."

Blue didn't had time to see her reaction to is earlier comment, before he scaled down after reaching to the top. His somewhat long feet landed on the gym floor, and immediately took of his harness. He wasn't used to wearing one, preferring when he spent some of his days in the trees hiding from the bullies, who were jealous that he was rich and they weren't. He didn't care that the kids back home were jealous of him, a he knew he was a special kid who lived with a drunk father and mother, but otherwise in a most wonderful home ever.

Even though, Ronald wasn't one of the rich kids but a middle class. He was loved there, and grew happy there. He could remember playing soccer in the small forest right by his house, where he somewhat beat Ronald. It only proved of how good he was, but it was too bad when the ball hit one of the trees where a hive of trackerjackers lied. He stood in fear remembering one of the incidents that a trackerjacker nest landed on him. His pale hand reactively traced the scar that went from the bottom of his left earlobe to the corner of his mouth, where the trackerjackers stung him the worse. The surgeons got out the poison leaving stitches in its wake, with most of his face leaving no scar compared to the somewhat noticeable one on his face. Blue felt somewhat insecure about the scar and on his beautiful features, but he knew scars brought out the beauty more than a simple face. He was going to be a victor in this year's game!

* * *

 **Raven Well (12), District 12**

Raven almost wanted to let out a giggle, as he approached the front doors of the building. He only assumed that there would be some guards or something that would prevent the tributes from leaving the building. He didn't had any say so, where they wanted to go since Jaycee and the escort agreed to come here, without any consent from him. It almost made him feel worthless and feel like he was stuck in hell where his father would hit him for messing up, like he'd done that earlier before he left.

The handprint bruise on his face was still quite noticeable, but was sort of fading. It turned into an ugly shade of grey instead of being in the ugly shade of blue, where the escort and the stylists cringed. Probably from the way, it was noticeable and how ugly it looked. He still had the concealer on his face, leaving him paler on his than his normal fair-skin look. He was forbidden from leaving their penthouse without adding the concealer which made him feel more girly and more like a Capitolist who had a cake full of makeup on their face. It annoyed him greatly. He had the urge to rub it off, and let people know that he had a bruise on his face. It wasn't like he cared, so he rubbed off the concealer letting his bruise show.

Raven stepped out of the somewhat cold building and into the heat that the sun brought. It reminded him of an oven, and he was a cookie that would be scorched if not checked on. He experienced hot summers back in twelve, and it almost let him be homesick, but it wasn't like he really could come back home. His parents didn't love him, and was gleeful when his name was called. His brother and friends, however, cared for him leaving him conflicted. He wanted to win, but at the same time he wanted to die. His thoughts didn't help, but he had days to figure it out. He was known for his irrational decisions os that could wait.

Raven followed some crazy lady who had an afro bubblegum hair that had shades of green that reminded him of vomit, whenever he got the stomach bug that usually happened twice a year or so. The vomit and gum lady headed into a salon, in which he felt almost giddy. He wanted his hair dyed instead of it being a dirty-blonde that connected it to his father. He wanted it still be blonde, but probably a platinum one.

"Hello. I'm Lucia Bellows the third, after my great whatever grandmother who owned this shop two centuries ago which is quite boring to say, but whatever! I don't really care if you have an appointment or not," the woman rambled as he entered the room. Her blue hair was put up in a curly half bun, with dark purple eyes staring at him. "You look like one of the tributes. I don't often get tributes, but anyways welcome! What would you like?"

"I guess platinum blonde," said Raven unsurely. He found that this woman was really annoying and loved to chat, which he sometimes hated. Raven usually liked the peace and quiet instead of it being chipper and loud.

"Wonderful. Would you like any highlights in it? Such as your blonde? Blue? Blue is in season, and I love the colour blue, anyways. It's why I have blue hair, but kept my family's signature of violet eyes…" Lucia continued on, in which Raven tuned out of her annoying voice. "But let's get started, shall we?"

Raven followed her into a room, where she took out bleach from a container after she grabbed plastic gloves from a box. He sat rigidly in the black chair that was very uncomfortable and he wanted to get his hair done instead of it getting trimmed back to his ears everytime it got too long for his tastes.

"I'd find that doing it by hand has better results than using a machine. Doing it by hand, is slower but has best results instead of missing your scalp completely, leaving your blonde their instead of it being bleached into white…"

Raven stared at the white walls that hung very few pictures on it. Wincing when his hair was tugged roughly, but ignored it until he stopped feeling the tug of the hair and the fingers leaving his hair.

"All done!" She cried out, "Just don't wash your hair for a few days so that it would stable out to get the best results!"

Raven said nothing only trudging on into the heat of the weather where he snuck back into the building where no one was paying attention to him. He wasn't surprised. Usually everyone at home ignored him, so he kinda stood invisible. He really didn't care if no one approved of his irrational thoughts of getting platinum hair.

* * *

 **I'm finally on summer vacation, so I should update more so that we could get to the games. Sadly, there is literally like a whole bunch of chapters so I don't know when we'll get to the games. I don't know if I'm going to get an update out tomorrow, because I have to be at the airport at 4 in the morning to go to Washington D.C. so I'm staying up all night tomorrow. And I sorta have a date with my dad since he's taking me to the airport and we're playing games to pass the time. If I don't get an update out tomorrow, than I'll see you in June!**

 **Let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time with Night 1 that would feature four or five tributes. Any guesses of which one?**


	38. Night 1: Hope and Dreams

**Night 1: Hope and Dreams**

 **Dan Grant (15), District 9**

Dan sat rigidly on the sofa, staring at the black screen of the TV. He already tried so many channels that could at least captivate him, but nothing could hold his interest. The channels mainly focused on what the Hunger Games, or who would win which seemed stupid in Dan's perspective. None of the tributes had their scores yet, but it didn't stop the Captolites to bet on whoever would be able to win.

He looked down in his lap to see the blue mug filled with hot chocolate that had plenty of white substance which was marshmallows before it melted. He had no idea what to do, with his district partner up in her room doing whatever she was doing. It didn't matter to Dan, as they only had about a few more days left of relaxation until they had to prove themselves which would probably explain his insomnia that kept him up all night.

"I'm surprised that you haven't passed out, since being at the rec centre all day," said a feminine voice that sounded a bit hoarse. Dan looked at the voice to see grey hair pulled in a tight bun that seem to squeeze the old woman. Her dark brown eyes stared at him warmly, and it reminded him of hot chocolate without the marshmallows. Her tan skin held countless of wrinkles all over her heart-shaped face, along with her thin, chapped lips. "Considering that you worn yourself out earlier."

"Who are you?" questioned Dan with distrust in his tone. His emerald eyes stared at the woman. She looked oddly familiar too, but yet he couldn't place his finger on it. He didn't had any grandparents left since they died before his parents had, because of a heat stroke or something like that.

"Maisie Brekkor, victor of the 130th games. I was the old woman who helped you out the morning you got reaped. I grew curious since I find you working at the fields, but go home without a roof over your head. I know it's probably weird for a stranger to give food towards a young lad, but by the looks of your scrawny figure, you probably wouldn't lasted for another few days," said the old woman-Maisie Brekkor in a calm tone. She stumbled to the chair, and sat down. Sitting almost right next to him.

"Oh ok," said Dan. "So you just give people random food because you pity them?"

"It beats letting them starve to death."

Dan was instantly reminded about David. An older guy that worked in the same fields and under the same overseer's watch. David usually brought him home for dinner, once they got out after planting and harvesting the grain multiple times, then putting the bundle of wheat into a truck where it would be distributed to factories and the Capitol. Dan considered him a good friend, despite the over fourty year difference between them. David gave him a bed to sleep on and a fresh homemade meal that his wife cooked, but Dan didn't want to risk his welcomeness so he often didn't bother coming over. Usually people simply stopped caring for him. It almost seemed like it was a curse.

From the time that his parents died from a wildfire that wasn't preventable. Wildfires were really common in the district, caused by a major drought, and the temperatures were in the 90's or in the 100's in which a spark was created and created disaster everywhere it went. Dan only remembered it vaguely from _kissing his parents goodbye on his chubby dark legs, and than hearing the devastating news that a wildfire formed, killing almost everyone stuck in the fields and the fire department wasn't quick enough to hose down the fire. Wynna and Mart quickly soon realized that they were unable to take care of all of them, and only kept Sean, Josh and Baby Abigail, whom wasn't much of a baby anymore._ Abigail filled out more, and took on a dancer figure compared to the baby fat she had when he last saw her. She grew her hair out to her mid-back kept in dreadlocks with her green eyes shining brightly when she said goodbye to him. The only person that wanted to say goodbye to him, the last of his connections to his "family".

Dan could remember clearly when he was separated from his family, and go to the poor part of the "family" as he was referred, to be there to be a servant of some kind. He slaved away by cooking, doing the chores and the laundry until eventually when the father of the family, fell off a moving truck and broke his back as the result, where he was paralyzed from the waist down, bound in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. As a result, the family made him toil in the fields and kick him, deciding that he would no longer be apart of the family and an outcast for the rest of his life.

"Dan, you alright?" asked Maisie in a worried tone.

"Sorry, I must have spaced off," apologized Dan, keeping his tone sincere.

"I'll cut you a deal. I'll probably die soon, and I don't have any heirs. If you win, I'll adopt you and you'll truly have a home. if you lose well, simple as that."

"Deal," said Dan without thinking about it. Dan always wanted a family, and a home he could truly call home. Everyone abandoned him in one way or another, besides David. He was an expectation from that, David hadn't let him down yet.

* * *

 **Fresia Ford (18), District 10**

"You've told us we are just like sheep. And that you lead us and guard us like a shepherd. You know our names, and you make us feel special and loved. When we hurt, you help us feel better. Thank you, Jesus, for your good care and for giving us parents to help. Thank you for the Bible, and for teaching us stuff in life that helps us grow. Bless the people in our world, and help them to know you love them, too. Thank you for all the people who help us so much: teachers, doctors, policeman, and fireman—and so many more," whispered Fresia, as she put her arms on the bed and put her hands together. She didn't care who heard her. God was important to everyone including her. God was the reason why there was life on Earth.

Fresia stood up once she was done reciting a prayer. It was common practice to says thanks to the Lord every night, and everyone in the circle had to recite one prayer every night along along with memorizing at least one book to become a member. It made her sad that Christianity was forbidden and she wished that Christianity was allowed, so that people could believe in God once more. Fresia wasn't afraid of being in the Hunger Games, she accepted death and she would be in god's hands once more, becoming an brushed a lock of mahogany out her face, and sighed.

She didn't really felt tired though, and she wanted to read her first copy of Lamentations, but she'd done that all day. Rereading the Lamentations that were covered in blue, black, and red ink from the juices of the berries that she managed to collect. It made her smile of how crafty it looked, but yet still held the sadness to it. The Lamentations were sad, and it made her cry over the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. It was before the time Jesus was born but people held their faith in God, just like she did. She stayed in a lounge where it was optional for tributes to relax, and she read it all.

Fresia still remembered how long it took, and the effort she did to make the book beautiful , and still held the original theme without adding anything that wasn't originally there (writing it in her own words was different). Fresia already knew she wasn't going to even try to win, but she hoped that if she won she would be able convert people to believe in God more, and won't listen to what those silly politicians did. God was there for everyone. Good or the bad, god would still forgive people despite their countless acts besides murder. Fresia knew she couldn't sin, because she wanted to be in heaven where she would rest in peace instead of in hell, where the devil lie and all the true sinners lied.

She almost jumped as she heard a small knock on the door. For a second, she didn't know where she was. No one at her house really knocked, but they did when the door was shut which wasn't often. Her parents didn't have anything to hide after all. They were true Christians. She never usually goes to her friend Nina or Anjou's houses, since they usually came over at her house, or some other thing around the district.

"Fresia, it's Callidora," said the voice. "We were going to have a nice little bonfire almost just without the fire, if you want to join us or stay in your room until tomorrow morning. Your choice."

Fresia sighed to herself, before she glanced at her clothes. She was dressed in a silk, sky-blue shirt with matching shorts with flowers imprinted on it. She had no shoes on, besides some white socks as she never went to bed without socks. Who knows when the weather would get nice and cold? Course, the district had warm days throughout the year. She did get cold feet easily. Fresia said in a neutral tone, "Alright. I'll go join you."

Fresia walked on the white carpet until she reached to the living room area. Sable was dressed a dark blue nightgown that reached to her scrawny knees, and had no shoes on, her dirty-blonde hair was put up in a loose braid on the side. Gabriella, the annoying little girl who seriously needed Jesus in her life, wore a thin, bubblegum pink nightgown that had half sleeves with matching bunny slippers. Her red hair was neatly combed and tossed over her shoulders gently. Gary was just in regular jeans and a black t-shirt. He almost looked like he wanted to disappear at his stoic pale features. He blended in the shadows perfectly. All the lights were turned off, leaving only the blazing fire as the only source of a light in the midst of darkness, even the heavy dark curtains were drawn to block the Capitol's building lights in coming through.

"So where do you want to begin, doll," said Callidora in a baby voice, possibly directed towards Rocky, the other mentor. Her dark curls were in a low ponytail where it almost enhanced her beauty. She had dark tanned skin that almost looked flawless besides a few scars littering on her arms, and her dark brown eyes seem to pop along with her cherry-red lips.

"Why do you call me doll?" complained Rocky who beared almost a pained expression on his face. "You call the others by their monikers, but not me."

"Not true. Gary here is our little warrior. Fresia is our daughter, Gabriella is the fashionista and Sable is a cupcake with sweet icing. I just like doing it."

Fresia almost wanted to cringe at the dumb moniker the mentor gave her. Apparently, she had a weird moniker and she was referred to their daughter. _Creppy._ Fresia knew Callidora tended to be on the insane side, but she was also extremely smart-including giving Fresia advice that she should hide her Christianity. Fresia didn't have any shame hiding her beliefs, but how would she be able to get people to convert to Christianity? She was able to successfully convert Nina though, a Christian, but not in the group Fresia was in, since she didn't want the stress of doing what was expected of her, but Fresia was proud of her and herself anyways.

"How about we start with what you guys did back in the District. Starting with um...Sable?" said Rocky, turning his attention back to the four tributes, instead of with Callidora and their personal issues. His dark blue eyes landed on Sable's light brown eyes that almost looked like hazel, but not quite. Fresia saw Sable panic with her widen eyes instead of the almond shaped and the way she shifted in her seat. She probably hated being the centre of attention, which Fresia was afraid of that also, but she knew it had to be done. Fresia couldn't live her life being afraid of the centre of attention That was the way life was. In the end no one had to worry about it anymore!

"Erm… I killed the cows since I need the money and take care of my little sister. It's a butchering job and I have to work to keep up my keep at the orphanage," said Sable in a hurried voice. "Or at least that's what everyone says." Fresia heard the last bit, and it almost made her sad. Sable really needed god in her life to let her keep moving forward, and besides it almost reminded Sable of herself, besides working at a butcher shop. Fresia had to work on many things to become a member, and despite making things beautiful, she wanted to please others at the same time. It was almost like she wanted to fit in, but Fresia didn't mind wanting to fit in. She was her own person after all!

When her name got called, she felt her heart missed a beat and she closed her eyes before saying in a calm voice, "I mostly study the bible or do whatever the Christian group wants me to do. It's what I do, since I, myself, is a Christian along with my family. I believe in god, and he makes miracles happen to all of us. He's what I live for."

"Interesting… Gabriella, than Gary. You're up next."

"I buy all the wonderful clothes in the district since I'm rich and besides my lovely grandparents who I get to see once a year lives here, so I'm all set. How's my makeup? I'm going for a natural, but yet cute look and this type of makeup is a lot more different than what i'm used to at home." _She seriously needs God in her life, no life is that easy even myself isn't, despite that I'm almost well off compared to what others who have to work more and get blood on their hands. Maybe tomorrow, I should go recruit her to Christianity to get her out of this pettiness. There's much worse things than worrying about one's makeup._

Gary spoke silently, "I protect my family mostly. My father abuses us, so I have to work hard so that they're protected. It gives me something to think about since none of us is certain when we're going to die. I'm possibly the worst one yet, don't protect me though. I could fend for myself."

They all spoke, taking turns and sharing what they did. Fresia felt more connected with them, and she could relate to some of the information. Gabriella, despite her bratty behaviour, she actually had an artistic streak where she loved making things beautiful and she often showed it by her outfits and other things such as creating a mural on her ceiling, and having stained glass windows in her room (curtsey of her grandparents, but Gabriella helped make it one summer)

* * *

 **Ivy Butler (18), District 2**

Ivy took a deep breath as she sat across the scowling face of Alkali Mori, and the young man who had curly black hair who only smiled at her. This was who she was stuck with, until they die and possibly her. Ivy already knew that she wasn't the only Butler to go in the games, but she wanted to do one thing: win. Win for the sake of being the only Butler that won, and for volunteering for that young girl who had her life ahead of her. She was just too young, and it reminded her of Nero, the happy-optimistic kind of person. The one that always put a smile on her face despite they were opposite genders, but no one really cares about that.

She ran a finger through her auburn hair feeling the silkiness and the waviness to it. Her metal leaf hung on her pale neck, it reminded her of home and the cause for all this. _I promise that I will return home alive_. It was a promise directed towards Niro, and her parents. Her parents were the reason why she was breathing in the first place, and her heart kept beating inside her chest during her depressing times. Ivy was just kind of tired of being compared to everyone else, and she had no friends during those times especially during training. She was simply too alone, and people blamed her for that. She never socialized much, and preferred to keep her emotions hidden where her depression got so bad that she was clinging on just a little string before that collapsed, and almost killing herself in the process.

"Ivy, aren't you hungry?" inquired the escort-Neptune, his blue skin matching the colour of the walls of the dining room, they ate in. It was dinner time, even though it was almost 8 p.m. Ivy's family usually cooked during the time period of 5 to 6, instead of it being at 8. Ivy's eyes met Neptune's turquoise eyes for a brief second before returning to the silver fork that was twirling around in the spaghetti noodles. "You've been playing with your food for the last hour or so."

"Fine." was her immentant response. Her tone sounded disinterested, and she really didn't care of how she felt. She didn't want to keep her head clouded, not when she was too busy wanting to do something else. She felt lost like a fish in the midst of the ocean with grey sharks surrounding her. She never really had bad anxiety, but once in a while she did got a panic attack. It was something small, and never really inferred with her daily life. _I feel like I should not be here, like I'll always fail, like I'm never going to be good enough._ "I'm just not really hungry. May I be excused?"

"Of course, Ivy," replied one of the female mentors, Claudia or something like that. Claudia's dark eyes stared at hers and Ivy felt like she wanted to disappear. It was like a horror film or something like that, where eyes would always follow the victim and she was the victim. She was probably being paranoid and the effects from watching that scary movie last night was still there. Ivy didn't like the horror films, but she didn't want to seem like a wuss so she watched it with Alkali and a few others-Plantanium, Sirene and Gary, a district 10 male. He was pretty much the only outlier there. It was probably because they watched this old film called Veronica **(1)** that she got scared, and almost puked during the movie, once when the demon was walking down the hallway and it just freaked her out. Ivy didn't know why they didn't turn it off, but it was fictional, right? So she shouldn't be that scared.

Ivy looked at the happy, cheerful face coming from Lime to the serious, bored looking face of Alkali. They didn't look like they had anything to worry about, while it felt like Ivy was almost doing something wrong. It almost felt like she regretted volunteering. When the headmaster told her that she would volunteer, she felt exhilarated until she learned about her family's misbehavings of dying tributes from their family. Ivy wanted to honour them, and her metal leaf was almost like a tribute to them. They died trying to do what they love, and one of Ivy's dreams was winning the Hunger Games, for honour and honouring her ancestors. Ivy was more determined to win these games, she've proven her worth multiple times, but yet it felt like she was doing something wrong and she was just saying that.

Ivy shut the medieval dark door behind her, before she let the tears appear. She had a pressure in her chest that was blocking her ability to breathe, and she just couldn't do it. _Why did she have to have a panic during dinner, of all things?_ Ivy didn't have an answer to that, and it almost seemed that her anxiety was bigger than she previously thought and it probably would get bigger and bigger until it was able to swallow her whole. She was probably being melodramatic, but she didn't really care.

She headed towards her room, following what it seem to be the familiar path: passing the living room that held a flat-screen tv that was currently blazing some news report of what happened to the belated president and her ill-fated fate, and passed the what it seemed to be the endless hallway that held a mirror right next to the marble bathroom that held a large bathtub that could probably fit a few people and next to the bathroom was her room, right across to Alkali's room.

She landed on her bed with a plop as she stared at the blank ceiling, staring blankly at the white ceiling . There was no posters like it did at home. Her ceiling at home held posters mostly of which was the band called Traumas that sung all kinds of music varying from pop to a bit of rap, but it was still interesting. She adored the members from the lead singer to the drummer that never talked in any of the interviews, and was just there in the background. The lead singer was named Blair Evans that had an enchanting voice and it amazed her of how much Blair had vocals compared to the almost dying whale voice of Ivy's.

A soft knock interrupted the peaceful silence. It made her puzzle of who it might be. She didn't socialize with her district partners nor anyone for that matter, so that made it even more of an enigma to her. The voice confirmed who it was-Claudia. "Ivy, it's Claudia. You seem really upset at dinner and I just wanted to check on you in case you want to talk about it. I also brought chocolate in case well, you're on your period because I don't know, and well piping hot chocolate to confront you, that's what my mother used to did before she passed away shortly after I won my games."

"Come in, I guess," said Ivy after a brief pause. Ivy usually wasn't vocal to share her burden with others. She had to tough it out, like she did with everything. It wasn't like it was permanent or anything. She was an adult and she was still having these teenage problems, and it made her feel more worse.

"What's bothering you?" asked Claudia. Claudia was the straight to the point kind of person which made Ivy relieved almost. Ivy's mother usually liked to ease into things instead of getting straight to the point which made Ivy sometimes annoyed by it. She always speaks about her own experience and how she dealt with it before asking Ivy about what her problems were about. Ivy knew her mother cared about her, but it wasn't like she was going to change any time soon, and now that Ivy was about to be in the games possibly in a week or so, that made it worse. "Are you on your period?"

Ivy laughed at the small side comment about the mention of her period. She had her menstrual cycle a few days before the reaping began, where she was told that she was going to be volunteering around that time frame anyways. "No. It's nothing I guess. Probably my anxiety issues though."

"I get it, Ivy. I came from a family where they refuse thinking that there was something wrong with me, as I looked fine. Fine is just a lie. They never noticed how much I had depression, when my step-brother raped me when I was young and how much I still have side effects because of it, and my anxiety was just there giving me more panic attacks during my teenage years and it was worse when I was in the Games. I was about fourteen or fifteen years old then," explained Claudia in a rather affection caring mode. It was extremely abnormal, but yet soothing. Claudia was usually one of the coldest, cruel Victor that came out of the Hunger Games with nothing, but scars that marred her dark face. Her voluminous black curls lightly touched Ivy's pale skin, which almost felt like a cat brushing against your skin.

"And I'm almost nineteen, and yet I'm acting like some hormonal teenager. All my life, I trained for the Games living on the motto: The Hunger Games is for the strong, there is no room for error. And now it feels like I'm regretting to volunteer," admitted Ivy.

Claudia let out a small chuckle soon after Ivy admitted that. it was a little creepy in a way, since chuckling never really came after you admit something. It sorta gave Ivy the shivers, which Claudia only grinned for a few minutes then spoke, "I get a lot of tributes who were so excited, always feel like they regret when the games draw nearer. They always say the same thing, 'I don't know why I volunteered. I don't want to die.' so it's oddly normal. This is one thing you can't say 'I'm done. I don't want to do this anymore' when in fact, you're gambling with your life. You could have just sit back and not speak a word and let that young thirteen year old girl go in your place, but you didn't. You have a heart, Ivy, just like others before you."

"I guess you're right."

"Now drink the hot chocolate before it cools down."

Ivy let out a small laugh before smiling. The stone in her stomach was still there, but at least it didn't feel like it swallowed her whole.

* * *

 **Brandon Alderwood (17), District 5**

Brandon grimaced as the killer walked into the kitchen, holding a butcher knife in one of his hands and blood slowly dripping down off the knife. Brandon wasn't fazed by the sheer mounts of gruesome, and blood in the movie as he knew it wasn't real. It reminded him of the Hunger Games. The only difference was that the film wasn't real and the Hunger Games was. Brandon wasn't afraid of the Hunger Games. Training in the community home did that to you. Death simply happened. It was kill or be killed, there was no other option.

"You're still watching this," whined Twyla. Brandon turned around saw the red tips of her long hair that looked like a carrot instead it's cherryness. His brown eyes stared into her almost tiny form, it reminded him about one of those lucky kids back home who would be able to get adopted quickly based solely on their looks. None of the older ones had a chance, and Brandon was one of the unlucky ones. He was just a natural ordinary look with his olive complexion, curly blonde hair and chocolate eyes, nothing about his appearance screamed that he would quickly get adopted. And besides with him quickly getting closer to adulthood, his chances at getting adopted was slim. "I really don't get how you could enjoy horror movies. My life is a horror movie."

"You get used to it," Brandon brushed off her comment, as if it was some annoying bug crawling over his skin. Brandon had no problem with bugs, besides bees. He hated the sound of buzzing and it would always stiffen up when one was close, and besides he had no idea if one was a trackerjacker so better be so safe than sorry. "It's not that bad, and besides you're what fifteen or fourteen so you should know about how gruesome the Hunger Games could get. This is just a minor thing compared to the real thing."

"I'm sixteen!"

"And you act like a spoiled brat who had everything handed to her. Unlike you, I didn't grew up with actual loving parents, and I actually had to work for things!" he shot back, his temper flaring quickly at the younger girl. Despite the one year difference, they acted really different. Her dyed hair was possibly a sign of how much she was spoiled, and Brandon never had enough to eat. Even at dinner, Twyla acted like she really didn't care who saw her when she stuffed her mouth with fried chicken and mashed potatoes covered in gravy. She had mashed potatoes all over her face, and dessert was even worse when she got chocolate ice cream all over her pale features. She accidently

"You think I'm spoiled?" Twyla let out a small laugh at the comment which honestly, surprised Brandon much. He didn't expect to get the young girl to laugh at his comment. "My mother died when I was born because of some complications, I'm not really sure since I never knew her. My father remarried some witch named Gisele who abhor me beyond the world. Her ugly face was always right there where it scarred me. When I was five, my father died leaving me in her hands. I would cook and clean for her, where I would never get enough food. My stepbrother Ronnie was my only friend. He died when I was thirteen, because of some electrical fire that broke out. As a result, my stepmother threw me in the fire in vengeance probably for 'accidentally killing her son or whatever' and I got a scar on the back of my neck shaped like a large plate since that's where the worse got there, causing me to lose most of my hair." Her pale hand reached to the back of her neck where he assumed where she was just tracing the scar. "So I never cutted my hair since which explains why my hair is so long, and dyed so much, to get a rise out from her."

"What's going on here?" cried Michael loudly. His dark features looked furious with his dark brown eyes almost demanding to what was going on there. He sounded furious opposed to his always composed, and reticent. "People are trying to sleep, and you two are making all this racket. Just go to bed, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"But-" protested Brandon. "I haven't finished watching this."

"Turn it off. Now. And. Get. To. Bed."

"I hate you," murmured Brandon once he turned off the tv and passed Twyla, making eye contact briefly before he trudged on into his room.

* * *

 **D.C was so fun and I wished it lasted a bit longer though. I loved it despite the humidity there, and Liberty (the other school), no hate but they got off easily while my school got blamed. It was fun though, and I also visited Balitimore because of the airport, and it was fun. I really hope I could go back there sometime during my lifetime, there are quite a few things I want to see again. Funny story though, my roomates and I kept getting woken up by the chapterones for the first two morning until the last day where we actually woke up on time.**

 **Veronica is the movie on netflix that is based on a true story about a girl that plays the oijia board along with her friends, and well it's the scary movie ever so I heard. I'll be watching it tomorow when my parents are food shopping, because I so want to see it.**

 **Let me know what you think, by dropping a review down below!**

* * *

 **I'm still missing quite a bit of check-ins from the following people:**

 **BabyRue11**

 **FlyingHamburgerRider**

 **Taniheart**

 **BloodedInk**

 **Jul312**

 **silentwarrior78**


	39. Day 2: Attitudes and Cherishness

**Day 2: Attitudes and Cherishness**

 **Vivian Willows (16), District 7**

Vivian walked to the dining room where the escort, the mentors-Petunia, Laia, and Kai, and Juniper were eating waffles, it seemed to be waffles as the only option. The other two tributes seem to haven't arrived yet, which was just fine by her. She hadn't really interact with them, and besides she thought that Rosa reminded her of Rosie in a way. In a girly girl sense of way; obsessed with boys, makeup and wearing dresses. Personally, Vivian found that dresses were to be taken advantage of and limited leg movement, which would explain why she currently wore black pants and a loose plain grey shirt that was at least two sizes too big for her, just the way she liked it.

"Had a good sleep?" asked Petunia casually. Her dark brown hair was pinned up in a tight ponytail which vaguely reminded Vivian of hers. "At least I didn't have to worry about chasing you to go to bed at 2 o'clock in the morning, like the others." That made Vivian puzzled, but she didn't question it further. She wasn't one of the curiosity cats, she had a small case but nothing major that would end her life.

"Yeah. I hadn't slept in a comfy bed since when I was back at home," Vivian admitted candidly. Vivian missed home immensely especially playing basketball with her brothers-Hunter, Charles, and Sage. She really hadn't felt this much alone in a while. Last time she remembered being this much alone, was when her parents died six years ago. She wondered what her brothers were doing, probably eating breakfast-porridge or oatmeal, and looking at the empty space at the table where Vivian would sit at, often teasing Charles about his bookish tactics when he brought up some interesting fact or a random quote. She missed Sage more than any of her brothers, her partner in crime where they would sometimes prank Charles by messing up his decent book collection, and hiding his books in an odd collection and replace it with a bunch of random stuff.

"You'll be back home before you know it," commented Laia. Vivian glanced at her briefly, her usual curly blonde hair was straightened and put up in a black headband. Her light blue eyes had light blue eyeshadow and black mascara, something Vivian was vaguely familiar of when Rosy put makeup on her, insisting that she shouldn't hide how beautiful she looked by wearing baggy clothes that was at least one or two sizes too big. Her full lips had fresh coated dark lipstick that matched her pale complexion. "It honestly depends if you survive or not. You look like you're able to go far, just like the other two. There could only be two victors."

The glass door slid open revealing a tired looking Rosa and Blue. Rosa's usual midnight black hair with some streaks of chocolate brown hair showing at the roots, probably lighten it up or something like that. Her hair was usually neat, but patches of her hair looked ragged. Her black eyes had bags underneath them, suggesting that she probably stayed up most of the night or that she didn't sleep well. Vivian sometimes get insomnia, and that causes her in staying up well past midnight. She looked flustered at her black skirt and a tie-dyed that the colours yellow, blue, green, pink, and white appeared on the shirt that had spaghetti straps. Blue, however, looked less exhausted than her with his neatly combed black hair that was bleached at some ends resulting in a pale blonde look. His eyes looked wide awake, and almost blinking rapidly. His pale cheeks looked flustered and red as a tomato, which made Vivian curious. Surely, they didn't wake up late since they had a free day today.

"Sit down," barked Aelin, pointing at the two empty seats beside her and Laia. "Honestly, couldn't you two get here on time? Ugh, thanks to you we're like fifteen minutes late to what we're supposed to do." Vivian blinked at the information. Whatever it was, it sure made the escort crabby today which was better than being ditzy where it got Vivian on her nerves. _Oh, look at me I'm from the Capitol and I'm nice and rich so that's means I have to be ditzy and I don't know the first thing about what being poor is. Oh, Capitol please save me._ It actually almost made Vivian to punch the escort right on the nose, since she really was determined that Aelin didn't know the first thing about self-defense, and to actually give crap to the escort; sadly, Vivian fought down the urge to do so.

"So since Nixie, Calvin, Ingrid and I decided to be in some groups so that the tributes could interact with each other. We've decided to split into three groups; going shopping because what girl doesn't like to go shopping!" _Me,_ Vivian thought lamely. She didn't understand the point in shopping since that required money, and besides there was plenty of things to buy such as a new skateboard since hers was already coming apart, with one of the hind wheels coming out. "Going to theatres to see the brand new movie that features superheroes and villains, or an ice skating rink."

That really wasn't much options, and Vivian was kinda hoping that there would be football or soccer in one of those options. The only one that sounded decent enough was ice skating, and Vivian had some experience of it when the lake froze over during the wintery-weather. Her brothers used to take her out to the lake, and rented out some ice skates whenever money was decent, and had enough to spare. Vivian never thought that ice skating was a good sport to actually pursue in, and besides ice skating was for one season while the other sports such as basketball, baseball or soccer lasted for 3 seasons, maybe 4 if the weather permits. Wrestling, however, lasted throughout the seasons which Vivian often enjoys. It was a fun competition to see who's the strongest, and she always enjoyed herself wrestling them, or tackling them to the ground playfully.

"Vivian, could I talk to you?" asked Rosa, once everyone was done eating breakfast and they were getting ready to leave.

"I guess," said Vivian in a neutral tone.

"How do you tell a boy about your feelings towards them?" asked Rosa, her chubby cheeks turning red in mortification. Vivian didn't know why Rosa would confront her about something like. She had no romance experience whatsoever and living in a household filled with boys for about 7 years, without no parents around completely didn't help.

"Talk to him about you feel. It's simple. You're friends with him, right? Just go up to him, and tell him how you feel,quite simple," said Vivian. She really wanted to roll her eyes at the dumb question: tell him. Honestly, there was no reason to not talk to someone. You got a problem, advocate for yourself, it's that simple.

"Alrighty then, thank you for the advice," said Rosa politely. It seemed that Vivian was incorrect about one thing, Rosa wasn't as annoying, nor a shallow-headed bitch who was addicted to drugs, cigarettes and also her doodles that she often drew at dinner (since she never really eats), wasn't as annoying. She was just only two years younger, and still had a lot to learn about.

"Welcome. You could come to me if you have any more problems, like a girl talk one-to one?" Vivian didn't mean for the last part to sound like a question, but it seemed so foreign to her tongue. She always thought it was some silly subject that she could simply brush off since Rosy often brought up that talk almost every time she visited (possibly because she wants to see Sage). Vivian really wasn't into the dresses, the makeup, the heels since she found that it limited body movement and would probably make someone vulnerable if someone wants to take an advantage and besides it was a little more easier to conceal a pocket knife in case someone tried to nab her, instead of wearing a dress with no pockets, but that was just her opinion.

"I'd like that," said Rosa after a moment. She didn't seem faze by the way Vivian said the last part like a question, which was probably a good thing. Vivian didn't want to embarrass herself even more. It was a little weird being the only girl that wasn't obsessed with dancing, or other things like boys for instance.

* * *

 **Lacey Weaver (12), District 8**

Lacey smiled at the mentors-Silken, Lisle, and Paige and the escort-Ingrid, despite her incredibly weird sense of personality and fashion sense she was actually a pretty cool person to talk to. She was from the Capitol, and since Lacey really never heard anything bad about the Capitol, besides the Hunger Games that went on once a year, she assumed it was a pretty good place to live just like in District 8. Lacey knew it was a good place to live in since everyone she met yesterday was really cheerful, and so polite. No wonder everyone envied the Capitol.

Lacey was still a bit tired from the events that happened yesterday. She even met a new friend named Alice Manah, from DIstrict 11. From the way Alice talked about her life, it sounded great and Lacey really couldn't wait until she was able to travel around the district seeing everything there was, especially the ocean. She read that the ocean was very beautiful in four so she really wanted to see that. Everything was really beautiful in its own way!

"How are you all doing?" asked Lacey sitting down next to the long auburn hair, dark brown eyes and pale skin-Lisle and Ingrid, who was busy sipping some dark substance that looked like coffee. Her mother usually drank coffee in the morning to get her awake and work on boring paperwork as she was the mayor of the district, so she was responsible for that sort of thing.

"Why are you so optimistic this kind of morning? You only have a few more days to enjoy your freedom than get back to seriousness unless you want to die," grumbed Paige as she took another bite of her fruit loops cereal. A few green and orange fruit loops remained in the white, glass bowl. "I wouldn't be so optimistic if I were you."

"Paige, chill. I get your pregnant and all, but chill out," snapped Silken, his blue eyes afix on Lacey's own. Lacey's grin remained until Yarnn and Damask walked in, yawning in union. Lacey didn't know whether to like Yarnn or not, since it almost reminded Lacey back in the district where people often mutter rude remarks about her. She still had no idea why though. She was a very candid person and so sweet, if she had to describe herself. "Leave Lacey alone, and go eat your chocolate hotdogs?" His tone turned to disgusted, with his pale face turning into a sour expression, and a tad-bit of confusion. "Why chocolate hotdogs?"

"It's the cravings. They often arrange from normal such as a blueberry muffin or to extreme like my chocolate hotdogs," voiced Lisle in calm manner. She sent Silken a sour expression and Lacey kinda felt uncomfortable. The totally cool people, she once adored, were having a weird conversation that was preventing her from receiving her answer. Some sort of thing called chocolate hotdogs, and pregnant chicks were a weird conversation holder. Of course, Lacey normally didn't have any conversations with others since back home, everyone seemed to dislike her immensely. It was ironic of how she almost admired the mentors, than they turn out to be a self-centred bitches who were arguing over some petty thing. "You would know that if you were pregnant, but you can't so. How would you know."

Lacey stood up abruptly, tired of being in the middle of the crossfire. It was better to leave them alone. If they didn't care about the tributes there, then they shouldn't even be mentors. She didn't want the mentors to be fighting over some stupid thing, but who would ever listen to her? She'd been sheltered her whole damn life, and she was done playing some naive little girl who didn't know anything. She wanted answers. Answers to why her parents prevented her from knowing things. Why couldn't she know some things? Why did people hate her?

"Shut up!" screamed Lacey, getting everyone's attention. It was something she really never did: raise her voice. She was done being polite to people if this was what she was going to get as a response. Why did she had to be nice? There was no other answer. She can't continually be nice to people if everyone was going to treat her like she didn't exist. "You're all acting like spoiled petty children who couldn't their heads out of their egos. You're all are so self-centred its not even funny. If you actually noticed, there are tributes here that will be dying in a week or so, and you're all bickering your heads off. It's not fair!"

"Lacey's right," said Yarnn, looking at them in an annoyed sort of way. Lacey wasn't expecting Yarnn to speak up like that, much less agree with her. She guessed surprises came at every corner. Only Damask hadn't spoken up, but he usually was the reticent one. Lacey couldn't recall Damask really speaking much, he probably preferred his own company. It wasn't like none of them got much of a choice, having to go to the Hunger Games than possibly, most likely dying. Lacey hasn't experience all her life, and possibly did Damask and Yarnn either. Eve though they were older than her, they seemed like real cool people to hang out with anyways.

"Thank you," whispered Lacey, her brown eyes affix on Yarnn's bigger frame than her tiny ones. Of course, Lacey hadn't experience her growth spurt yet as she heard puberty made people taller and a little hormonal crazy. Maybe puberty could erase her chubby cheeks, and make them less chubby? She was a twelve year that still had some of her baby-fat. She didn't know anyone that have baby-fat when they were twelve, but things worked differently in different people. "Now can we actually eat? Or is it going to be more squabbling instead of eating. Us, tributes, only have two more days until we go to training."

No one said anything, only Ingrid looked absolutely dumbstruck. Ingrid-the freaking ditzy escort looked dumbstruck at her outburst. That was scary from her perspective. Ingrid usually wore the calm facade with almost a hollow smile without any emotions in her eyes, but there was times that Lacey could notice that some of her enthusiasticness was just incredibly forced, and her smile looked pained before it was hidden by a mask. Lacey was curious about why the escort was that way? She'd never known someone who could act like that, and besides there was no such thing about depression, right?

* * *

 **Elijah Rosemarrie (15), District 3**

Elijah looked at Telle, and Agnes as they followed the escort around the busy streets of the Capitol. People with all kinds of flamboyant hair stopped and gawked at them. It almost made Elijah want to disappear in the midst of the shadows so that no one would notice him. He didn't want to be a celebrity of some sorts that everyone would gawk, until the Hunger Games actually began. Elijah mostly wanted to stay inside where there was less attention focused on him.

Elijah looked over his shoulder-he'd thought he heard some little kid cry, but couldn't hear the wailing over the loud commotion of the Capitol. It seemed the Capitol was trying to conceal something, but he couldn't place a finger on it. Was the Capitol concealing something that no one should know, that it wasn't as glamorous as it might seem, or was there something more deeper than one originally thought? It was something that made Elijah puzzled. It was probably like one of those mystery books that he'd read to Elsa, whenever she was cranky or she just wanted to lay down and take a nap on him. Mystery or fantasy book that had a few illustrations in it, but not much; keeping him entertained, while Elsa gets bored and falls asleep. It wasn't like Elsa was able to do much being on a few months old, and not yet support her head. She was almost in a vegetative state since she was so young.

"Did you hear that?" whispered Elijah to the dark curly haired of Agnes with her ashen skin looking abnormally pale in the sun.

"Yeah, but it isn't like we could ditch Adelina and explore. We don't even know we're going!" replied Agnes with a little bit of too much of enthusiasticness which caused Adelina's bright emerald eyes to gaze at them with a curious, but disdain look to them.

"You know you shouldn't worry about that. It's probably someone roughhousing around. Now, where we're going is something that you'd probably not expect something from here, but it's just like all the other districts… We're here!" screeched Adelina, opening a metal gate to an average building with a playground that probably needed a few touches of paint. Children wearing tank tops and shorts with dark sneakers ran around with most of them smiling and laughing. "This is Starlight's Orphanage, ironic for its name as stars come out at night a lot. We're going to be here for a few hours since they're short on volunteers for right now, then get some ice cream and watch one of the latest movies."

A few of the young ones stopped what they're doing and watched the group; it almost made Elijah get an uneasy feeling by feeling watched. Even though, he really hadn't watched any horror movies, but he hated feeling like someone was watching him every move. Elijah ignored them, keeping his eyes glued on the cobblestone path.

Soon, they reached the front doors of the orphanage with a little girl with two black pigtails, staring right at them curiously, her dark head tilted to the side with a smile on her face. Her little eyes-her left one silver, and her right one a dark blue. She probably only reached Elijah's waist, of course Elijah was a tall one, towering over Agnes' scrawny frame, and Telle's average height. He possibly towered over Adelina's if she wasn't wearing high-heels. "May I help you?" asked the girl in a suspicious manner, keeping her posture still the same. "Or are you those volunteers?"

"We're the volunteers," responded Adelina in a neutral tone.

"Good. Mrs. Rytten is busy, helping with the other children. She'll be down in a few…" the girl trailed off. Footsteps were heard on the dark floor, and an obese woman appeared. She appeared to be favouring her left leg instead of her right. Elijah couldn't tell what was wrong with her, since every inch of her body had an article of clothing minus her face. Even her light hair was covered in a blue hijab.

"Go away, Whitney…" She shooed off the young girl, limping away with her right leg shorter than her left leg. "Sorry about that. Obviously, we're short on volunteers. I'll like you to read to the disabled children." Her dark eyes lingered on Elijah's silver orbs. "The albino to help with the infants, and the other one… I guess, help prep with the next meal."

Elijah did as he asked. He went to the sitting room where the woman pointed at, and six children sat on the mat, all of them looking under the age of eight. The youngest only looked about five or four years old. He recognized Whitney instantly with her dark skin, the colour of chocolate and the two shades of eyes. Two of the children were in wheelchairs, one of them having a ventilator in their throat. The one with the ventilator was a male that only looked seven years old. His dark brown eyes looked sad, and his dark curly hair looked like it had some dandruff on it. The girl in the wheelchair, looked incredibly grateful with her almost near black irises and long, thick black hair and her somewhat tan skin. Elijah felt sorry for them. Maybe once he won, he could research and input money into a project that could get the girl and the boy to get surgery and help them walk again. After all the Capitol possessed that kind of technology, right?

* * *

 **Twyla Zahavyin (16), District 5**

Twyla looked at the racks with a thoughtful look. Twyla never had a chance to go shopping before, or actually be at a mall for that matter. The mall was huge and she wanted to stay there forever. She hadn't really interacted with the few people who chose to do shopping. Twyla forgotten the other names, but Rosa seemed to stick in her mind. Rosa actually liked being an artistic one with her commenting about how she could style her hair something differently, and getting her haired dyed to full red so that she could look dangerous. Of course, Rosa didn't know the first thing about hairstyling or at least Twyla thought since she seemed to be the canvas and paint kind of person.

"Find anything you like?" asked Rosa. Twyla looked behind her to see a silver crescent moon on a chain on her pale neck. She was probably carrying the second one for someone special. Twyla sometimes wished she had someone special back at home, glued to the screen to witness the Hunger Games and if Twyla might make it. As if that would happen. She didn't want to be left alone, and feel like she was doing something wrong every time she did something. She wanted to feel loved, cherished, and never feel alone again. It seemed that her dreams were fake.

"Not really. Nothing interesting. I'm just looking for a charm that reminds me of someone," she replied disinterested. Her green eyes scanning the jewelry racks for at least something. Maybe like a charm candy, or a moon? Ronnie was interested in the moon, and candy was sweet just like her brother.

"How about I help you?" suggested Rosa, already looking charms. "Describe your brother in three words."

"Kind, sweet and bookish."

After a few minutes of pure silence, Twyla found Rosa with a handful of charms in her pale hand. Her hand had some paint splatters which made Twyla curious of hwy her hand was like that, but didn't question. Asking questions was forbidden in her household so she refrained herself from doing so. "Choose a few or I could make a special one. I did it all the time back at home. I even made Blue's locket of which he has as a token."

"I'll choose one. I think I'll like that," she replied with kindness in her voice. It seemed that she finally found someone to keep her anxiety levels down, and possibly someone who she could call friend without having someone screeching in the background. Mostly saying of how much Twyla should've died that day in the fire, instead of Ronnie, the usual things.

"Alrighty kids. Let's go!" cried Nixie, already applying another coat of blue lipstick to her full lips. She must really liked lipstick and being ditzy.

* * *

 **Violetta Nellcamon-President**

Violetta stared at the paperwork on her mahogany desk. The lamp was turned on, and she held her breath thinking that Dextor was shuffling his miserable feet into her study, weeping uncontrollably and how much he missed her. _Annoying fool._ Violetta, then, realized that she was not at the penthouse anymore, she was now located in the President's mansion where her late mother stayed with her younger sister, Ruina, and Violetta outcasted.

Who knew there would be so much paperwork for a president? This wasn't like being the head game-maker where there was only a few paperworks and the huge amount of benefits out of it. She liked being rich anyways.

First things first, what would she do with Ruina? It wasn't like Violetta could make it into an accident, and she was a celebrity, being the daughter of the beloved ruler of Panem. Currently, Ruina was locked up in her room with a few meals a day delivered by an avox, and no social life. Maybe she could make her into an avox, or perhaps send her to one of the poorest orphanages in Panem? She had no answer, and it wasn't like Violetta would be able to continue the excuse that Ruina was bedridden with a contagious illness. Poison was out of the question since she already used up the last bit by slipping it into the Roxanne's martini last night.

Violetta ran a finger in her blue fringe. Ruina was turning eighteen in about six years, right? It wasn't like she was going to ask how old she was. Being eighteen meant that until they found who the murderer was, and she made sure that it would be for a mere five years until they known. What if Violetta installed a Selection for her? Where Ruina had to choose her suitor in order to gain her freedom? At least Violetta couldn't keep her forever, locked up.

* * *

 **So obviously there are sequels to this, I only had one plan but I guess it's a few. I hope you like this chapter, and we're actually on the one year anniversery already. I thought I would at the games by now, but we're 15 chapters away from the games, so that's something exciting.**

 **Missing checkins:**

 **BabyRue11**

 **FlyingHamburgerRider**

 **BloodIink**

 **silentwarrior78**

 **This is the last time, I'm putting up the check-ins than I'll put them up on my profile. There will be a few check-ins, but some of them are minor and would be in the games mostly.**


	40. Night 2: Creativity and Friendships

**Night 2: Creativity and friendships**

 **Rosa Ray (14), District 7**

Rosa looked at Twyla's anklet once more, hoping to let the inspiration come to her. She hoped looking at it would give her some inspiration, but nothing. There was nothing special about it. She wanted to give Twyla a charm to put on her anklet as she did promise her, she would. Besides, time was ticking away and she only had a few days before she could give it back. This wasn't like back home when she really had a deadline.

This reminded her of creating Blue's token; a simple oak tree around a silver chain. At least, it wasn't that difficult to make since Blue asked her to make the oak tree right by his house, but Twyla didn't ask for anything simply only a charm to remember him by. She was serious that her brother died leaving a scar and memories behind. It must have been tragic for Twyla, and it was almost the same way as her drunken father left them, leaving only bitterness and for her to become the sole worker of the household with her mother at home, in a bit of a depressed state but taken care of her younger sibling. A good for nothing father that was what he was. Her father was out of her life forever at least, but she always kinda felt like there was something missing. She used to dream that she would have a father when she was little, but she knew it wasn't like those fairy-tales where the father was a good guy and supported his child. As if that would ever happen, her father was a stupid excuse of a man who didn't deserve anything.

"Why is this being so stubborn?" murmured Rosa, her black eyes looking at the dark-brown anklet. She touched the brown leather hoping to get a feel of it, but she was only met with roughness, her small fingers silently scraping against the anklet, hoping to get a single spark of inspiration. She was only met with nothing, nothing that would create some sort of masterpiece for Twyla. Something to remember her brother by, if her sibling died she would probably do the same thing.

A soft knock was heard on the white door with purple flowers painted on it (she was bored, and it reminded her of home). Rosa sighed gently, letting out a stubborn breath of air out. She really wanted a pack of cigarettes right now, to soothe her restless mind and calm it. She wanted to feel the familiar piece of paper wedged into her mouth, letting the nicotine in her lungs, and feeling the familiar sense of calmness. She really doubted that the mentors would let her smoke, and it probably would do her some good in the arena if she stopped, but she couldn't bring herself to it. The smoke was intoxicating, and wasn't anything she felt in such a long time.

"Come in," her soft voice said, tucking away the leather anklet into the pocket of her skinny jeans. She didn't really want to change into her violet nightgown, and she felt awake even though it was probably close to ten at night. The sun already set, leaving a black sky with twinkling miniscule lights overhead, and a full moon shining its light on the glamorous city of the Capitol.

The bronze door-knob turned and the door swung open, revealing a raven-haired boy with blonde highlights. He was in his trousers with no shirt leaving a pale, muscled torso in the process. Rosa felt the rising urge to blush at the way, the light seem to sparkle off of him. _Stop it!_ She mentally told herself. She had to be prepared and that meant staying away from Blue. She really couldn't let any distractions affect her, but she fell for his silverish eyes with blue around the corners. Rosa wished that Blue was hers, someone that could enjoy her cooking, someone who could offer advice for her paintings.

"B-Blue I didn't know you were here." God, Rosa felt like an idiot stammering over Blue like some person madly in love with someone. She felt her chubby cheeks flush to a tomato red, which Blue gently laughed which made Rosa felt more mortified over it. His laugh sounded like someone flew from the the sky and had an angelic laugh that could captivate with just one laugh. She couldn't remember what Vivian said, her mind blank as she continued to stare at him. She couldn't keep her eyes off him.

"You okay? You just seem flustered," said Blue in a worried tone. Rosa bit the inside of her bottom lip, she could feel sweat starting to form on the back of her neck. Could he see that she was nervous? Or was it just her imagination?

"I'm fine," she said quickly. _A little too quickly._

Blue started to lean in close which Rosa felt the room started heating up. Maybe it was just her? Soon, they were standing inches apart which made Rosa flustered. His eyes gazed at hers and Rosa found herself lost into his eyes. Rosa only had feelings for him for about a year, and she kept it a secret, she didn't know if Blue shared the same feelings as her. She doubted that. Blue probably wouldn't care for someone like her: a middle class girl who had to support her family for a living, not really having a social life only having Alice for a friend while Blue grew up differently, always being the pretty boy and having food on the table every night, not having a care in the world.

Rosa, soon, found herself kissing Blue. His lips was everything imaginable, and so sweet. He tasted like strawberries and chapstick? Rosa didn't care as Blue kissed her back, only coming out for air once her lungs were screaming.

"I probably shouldn't have done that," apologized Rosa, still flustered from a few moments ago. _That kiss_. She could still the faint touch of where his smooth, pink lips met hers.

"Neither should I," he said.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

His lips soon met hers which she happily kissed back. It seemed that her life was complete. She possibly had a boyfriend from the guy that she had a crush on for a year. He shared the same feelings at hers so it made her feel better. At least there's one thing for sure: she wasn't entering the Hunger Games alone.

 **Lime Machite (13), District 2**

Lime was absolutely terrified. His hands were trembling a great bit and it was simply because he didn't want to die. It had been a mistake for volunteering so young. He didn't feel compelled to even do much, and as much of the reruns he watched of Finnick Odair, one of the aspiring victors, the youngest in his time, Lime never felt any better, not even of the vacation times as he referred it. It was like he was homesick, even though he already said goodbye to his hometown, family and friends.

Speaking of family, would Mom and Dad be happy for him? Or were they just absolutely terrified that they were losing him. He didn't know what became of Father's fate when he said, but Lime hoped that he was alive, just avoxed though he doubted it. District 2 peacekeepers were always harsh and even on the poor citizens who had barely any food on the table. Lime missed his brothers and sister most of all, he was the eldest out of them and never really bonded with either of them. How could he wasted his life like this? He regretted ever saying yes to the headmaster, regretted saying, "I volunteer!" at the reapings, and it made him feel sick as that was how he wanted to simply win. But how he could he win now? Lime was certain that death was coming for him and it might be a painful one. He was certainly not ready for this and it made him feel worthless, like he shouldn't be doing this.

"Lime, you alright? I just wanted to check on you, since this is the time that most volunteers regret volunteering, as they learn it's not simple as it looks, and they'll die most likely," said Romulas, one of the District mentors for this year. Romulas wasn't known for being so mother-y, but he guessed that Claudia or Serin pulled his leg, to be affectionate towards the tributes this year. Romulas was the harshest, and toughest mentor; it was rumoured that

he often abused his tributes so that they wouldn't be weak, or that's how the rumours went. Lime wasn't sure, but so far Romulas hadn't touched him, only criticizing that he should be more taller than his scrawny frame which could be viewed as weak, but Lime hoped not. He was average height for his age and still hadn't gotten a growth-spurt yet. "Don't make me kick down the door. I don't care about if your changing or masturbating, open the damn door."

Lime obliged and opened the porcelain door to reveal Romulas with a scowl on his face and Serin, who looked menacing. Serin was probably the youngest female that won in District 2, winning at the mere age of fourteen after the volunteer chickened out. Lime never found Serin Thorne interesting, so he never bothered to even learn about his games a lot, and her accomplishment was in The Victors Hall of Fame in the training academy where all the victors photographs laid, past and present were there. Lime was always fascinated, and always dreamed that his photograph would be up there, for all the future participants to see as the youngest victor of District 2, but that was before Lime was frightened, and scared of entering the Hunger Games.

Lime kept his features straight, trying to remain composed and see that he was doing fine, but most likely the mentors could tell that he wasn't doing any good and that he was perhaps homesick. All he wanted was to sleep in his own bed, eat the home-made meals that Mom always made even if he didn't particularly like it like that throw-up as he referred it, as it did look like someone puked and called it edible.

"Are you okay?" Romulas asked, his blue eyes looking at him, his body language looked like he was aggressive and could lash out at him, which made Lime feel more terrified. Lime never wanted to be on the other end of a fist, but sometimes he would during the academy, often getting a black eye or bruises that would go away in a week or two. Lime learned that he had to fight back and try not to loose, which was occasional. Sometimes, winning and sometimes losing, depending on how hard the fight was. "You better me. Don't make me make you."

"Chill out," Serin interjected, her dark brown eyes glaring at him despite her tiny size. "Good. I can't believe I'm with you this year, I would rather be with Cassassin, or Damien, other than you. At least they don't act aggressive to the tributes. We're supposed to help them-not let them fear us."

Romulas scoffed and Lime automatically felt like he was the third-wheel, which often Lime hated. Always being ignored, and just there for their attention. Maybe that was the reason why Lime never did went anywhere with Clay and Harquinne. He enjoyed being around with them even with Harquinne's crush on him which Lime didn't share the same feelings as her.

"I'm okay I guess. I miss sleeping in my bed and such," admitted Lime.

"How about you write a letter before your sent off to the Hunger Games, and we'll give to your parents in case you don't come back!" said Serin optimistically. Lime liked that idea very much. It would be nice to have his last words written down and besides, the victor's seem sincere enough that they would deliver the letter. It seemed like the Victors done it countless of times, probably because they realized that tributes have a small percentage of coming out alive. "We asked the other two and they agreed. We just ask you to write it before the last morning during breakfast and give it to Bemus or Echo before you go into the tubes."

"Um, okay," He said awkwardly. The mentors turned and left, probably to retire for the night. They were getting up early to go to the Captiol's Zoo. Lime shut the door, and stripped into his boxers. It was getting late and Lime might fall asleep soon. He turned on the lamp and grabbed a piece of paper and a black ink pen and started writing.

 _Dear Family and Friends,_

 _I'm writing to you before I fight to my death._ _I'm writing to say goodbye to you all. I'm really going to miss you, and I hope this letter reaches to you safely by the time you read this…_

Lime yawned as he written the second sentence, and dived into the four-canopy bed with white, silk sheets, already letting sleep consume him. He was going to write the letter sometime before the games.

 **Sirene Hook (17), District 4**

Sirene stared at the lapping waves coming from the indoor swimming pool. She was lucky enough that she got permission from the mentors- Poseidon, Cordelia, and Maya, to go swimming after this late at night. Swimming was the only way for her to relax, especially if she was alone with her thoughts. It wasn't like she was unsupervised with a few avoxes, standing near the pool in case she drowned. Sirene was an excellent swimmer, and plus she was a captain of a fishing boat, so everyone had to know how to swim.

Sirene was just kinda getting tired of these days. She found they were just incompetent days where they were completely unnecessary. It was just days to get people to relax, and simply the looming games that were in about a week or so. Sirene didn't want to relax, she should be more focused if she wanted to win this thing, and everyone- including the careers, were relaxed and happy enough instead of being focused. No wonder why the career Districts were slowly loosing their winning streak with the outliers. And she found that only the incompetence tributes lost while the determined, focused tributes won. Sirene saw what the careers looked like and mostly their personalities were different, and disorganized. Bridget was the calm one and never really spoke, but she seemed to have a passive agreement to her. Plantanium was just simply loud and aggressive, which would surely be a competitor to her if she didn't rid of the threat in the first few days. _Always best to eliminate the competition first before working her way down to the weaklings which weren't always weaklings, they could be just acting._

Even with District 2 tributes, they seemed to lack the usual attitudes or maybe they were simply hiding it. Sirene found Lime lame and would most likely die in the first few days. He was just too small, and even though he had a lot of physical muscle to his arms, but it was his dark blue eyes that simply gave it away-he was simply too scared to even kill. Ivy was just okay, Sirene didn't find anything interesting besides that Ivy seemed like a decent career, which Sirene should ally with her when the careers split up. Alkali was another strong tribute, a little arrogant but she seemed strong.

With Sirene's district partners, Cleo seemed alright, possibly a weakling especially with it seemed her crying. Sirene doubted she was a strong ally to keep around with her bubbling, and she did hear Cleo crying in her room back on the train ride. Diego was simple and she'd known ever since he started working on the fishing boat, so she would keep him around. It was nice knowing someone from back home, instead of being stuck with strangers, but it would only make it hard on killing him if need to be.

Sirene knew Diego for a long time, and she knew that he had loving foster parents. He was lucky. Sirene had her parents, but she always thought of them as deadbeats who couldn't find a good paying job. She was incredibly sour about that, she just wanted a place to call home instead of moving a lot , but they were loving at least, a little too affectionate, but still. Paupers living in a career District, it wasn't until she got her job as supervisor and the rest was history. Sirene enjoyed her job, and wouldn't want to quit. Even though she was mean to them, she still cared for them besides all the incompetence ones who couldn't take a hint.

She jumped into the deep end, feeling the rush of the water starting to pressurize her ears, but she ignored it. Sirene always loved being able to swim. It was just one of her hobbies, and a place where she could relax without the constant need of dealing with people. It was always tiring, but swimming helped where people really wouldn't judge her just because she was poor, but she doubted people would care. Sirene never knew, best to be safe than sorry.

Soon, Sirene felt her lungs started to scream so she went up to the surface to see Cleo, her dark hair put up in a messy braid. She was stoic which Sirene didn't mind. It was better than any other facial expression.

"What?" Sirene said coldly. Her pale arms held goosebumps from the brisk air, instead of being in the cool pool water.

"Maya sent me to get you. It's already past eleven and we'll be waking up early," said Cleo. Sirene rolled her eyes before she swam over to the nearest ledge and pulled herself up. She felt cold at the lack of water so she hurried to get the white towel to keep her warm. She slipped on a pair of violet flip-flops and walked out, with Cleo beside her. Sirene used the towel to at least dry off her blonde hair at least somewhat, so that it would stop making a puddle and dripping down her damp, periwinkle-blue bikini.

She slipped off her flip-flops once she got to her room, already feeling the soft carpet which she clenched her toes around, she let out a sigh and took off her wet bathing suit and threw it to the black avox who was standing near the shadows who disappeared as soon as the avox left her room. Sirene threw on her PJ's and walked into her bed, dreaming.

 **Ace Johnson (17), District 11**

Ace looked at his district partners-Chole, Bean and Alice. They were all gathered here for some bonding, which was weird, but Ace didn't mind. He would like to get to know them better instead of everyone just ignoring each other. Even though he would rather be alone in his room, he wanted to know what the younger tributes were like. They all seemed so nice and it made Ace happy. He was afraid that they might be just rude ones who was judgemental which reminded him of Khora. Ace still couldn't believe that he fell for her, but like they said don't judge a book by its cover, which he had to agree.

"Bean, are you okay?" Ace asked looking at the dark-skinned Bean who was shaking in her seat with tears dripping down her face and her brown eyes were red-eyed. "You really look upset."

Bean let out a huge sob which made Ace feel terrible. He never liked when people cry in front of him, it was like he was useless and just helpless. He never liked feeling those things and it reminded him of his bitch of a girlfriend who was just a rotten egg. As if his life never mattered in the first place, as if he wasn't supposed to be born in the first place. Ace tried to ignore those thoughts, and focused on what was in front of him.

"N-No… I really hate the dark! I hate the fire and what if there's something behind that curtain? I don't want to get killed!" cried Bean who put her head in her hands, covering her face which Ace could no longer see. She kept sobbing until Lila pulled her away from the room and went into another room-probably to have a talk with her or something. Even though Ace was never judgemental, he found her annoying with her constant crying. She definitely weared her heart on her sleeves, much like Ace did, but never really showed a lot of his emotions. Bean was too pure in this world, but Ace thought she needed help. Maybe she had a bad case of anxiety or she was naturally scared over everything? He didn't know the answer to that.

"Um-What was your guys's life back home?" Ace started, breaking the awkward silence that loomed in the air. "Mine was pretty good, but I'm not sure about you two."

"Alright I guess. I had a loving family, but there were often days where I went to bed hungry," said Chole, tucking a piece of her black curly hair behind her ear. "That's why I look like I'm 12, and so thin. And yes, you could see my ribs." She lifted her pink undershirt where the her ribs were quite noticeable, even though she was probably putting on a bit of weight from eating. Ace knew he was lucky that he had food on the table, and knew that people often were hungry, but seeing this in real life it changed him. No wonder he heard puking coming from the bathroom on the way here, Chole wasn't used to eating so much that she gotten sick because of it. "How 'bout you, Alice?"

Alice's green eyes widen and she let out a small squeak, but managed to regain her calmness. She tossed back a piece of her fiery red hair and said, "I was born to parents who always wanted child, but all my life I was shielded-. Perhaps you could call me ignorant, I never knew the Hunger Games existed and all that shazam. I'm learning things and hopefully I'm not that behind… What's your favorite hobby?" Alice asked, looking at him.

"I'm not sure anymore. I used to hang out with Khora, my girlfriend, who's truly a bitch. But she destroyed me and I'm trying to pick up the pieces," admitted Ace, gazing down at the tanned-tile floor. Ace didn't like talking about her, Khora made him feel like a useless thing that would get discarded as soon as he lost its shine. But Ace was tired of pitying himself, it was time he got his life together.

* * *

 **Long time no see right? Anyways a few things happened when I last updated. I got a burn-out on June 21st, where I literally couldn't write. My biggest issue was probably becubec of writer's block which lasted for more than a month, it wasn't until yesterday where I felt inspired for something, and it wasn't the story I was focusing on, it was this. I was going to give you guys an author's note soon, but that never happened. My physical keyboard space bar stopped working, so I have to use the on-screen one which sucks and I was focusing more on my blog. But I'm back, so hopefully there's updates that's quicker than this. Leave a review down below, bye.**


	41. Update about life and such

**I'm really sorry that I haven't updated much of anything from the last few months. My life has been really busy from a lot of band things that it literally feels like every weekend, and just school in general. It got to the point where I had to stop writing and focus on my life. I got so depressed that I was already turning to suicide, since my life was really bad. I'm getting bullied a lot to the point where I'm afraid of coming to school. It sucks.**

 **Recently, I found out that my grandfather got stage 4 throat cancer so I'm really worried about him especially about the upcoming surgery that he has.**

 **Thanksgiving break is coming up in about a few weeksweeks, figures cross that a new chapter can be up then. I have four POV's to get through, but now I'm slowly bringing things back. Thank you for sticking with me so far.**


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